


someone will remember us, i say

by lorelaislatte



Series: even in another time [1]
Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, College AU, F/F, Fluff, absolutely not a single lesbian dies and thats a promise, but I guess it still counts, college au sort of, look. look. im soft and projecting, only like three of them are actually in college, you'll have to wait a bit for hannah and owen but they're coming i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorelaislatte/pseuds/lorelaislatte
Summary: Clare College, Cambridge, 1987.Dani Clayton is running. Jamie Taylor is hiding.And two women fall in love.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Series: even in another time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097399
Comments: 323
Kudos: 318





	1. a leap of faith

**Author's Note:**

> bonsoir bonjour and hello. this idea smacked hold of me at about eight o'clock this morning and i haven't put it down since. please stick with me - i know it's a bit of a niche au, but i promise i'm bending heaven and earth to make it work.
> 
> my fellow sapphic oxbridge rejects: this one's for us. x

Dani takes a deep breath.

She’s been staring at the ceiling all evening, willing herself not to check the bags she’s hidden in the cupboard. _It has to work,_ she tells herself. _It’s too important not to_.

Eddie will be home in an hour, likely still drunk from the pub, and will kiss her goodnight before falling asleep still in his clothes. It’s a predictable routine, one she’s spent the last few years learning and anticipating, and one that her entire future currently hinges on. He won’t change his clothes, so he won’t notice hers are almost all missing. He won’t go near the bookshelf, so he won’t notice that all her favourite novels have vanished. Her passport and visa have been hidden in her rucksack for weeks, the few photos she’s bothering with eased out of their photo album and placed in books for safekeeping. Practically everything else she’ll worry about later - soap, shampoo, food, trinkets, they’ll all wait on the other side of the Atlantic for her to touch down and find. She just needs to get herself out first.

Dani can’t marry him. Can’t spend the rest of her life living a lie, pretending to be the perfect housewife while loathing who she’s become. The thought of spending the next sixty years like this horrifies her, the idea of bearing his child makes her feel sick. His family, who had been so comforting throughout her unstable childhood, had turned overbearing - they’d been calling her their daughter-in-law since she turned fifteen, and the words have only grown more oppressive. So for the first time in her life, instead of searching for the exit, she’s finally going to throw herself through it. She just has to hope she’s strong enough to land on her feet.

Her escape route was practically impossible at first. She’d spent ages pouring over the Cambridge prospectus in secret, hiding it under the mattress so that Eddie wouldn’t find it. She’d nurtured the idea the whole way through undergrad, researching the colleges and the funding she could get, the scholarships she could try for and the courses she wanted, finally settling on Clare College - one of the smaller ones, with the prospectus boasting a nurturing environment and a long history of student happiness. Dani liked the look of the buildings, accommodation was cheap and the College backed on to the River Cam, which led to daydreams of studying there in the summer, maybe finding a friend to go punting on the river with. She knew she was bordering on idealisation - after all, her chances of admission were slim, her chances of getting the funding necessary even slimmer - but it began to feel like the one seed of hope she had left. The one path left to a future she actually _wanted_. A way to gain the further education she needed to set her on the right tracks to support herself without looking back. Dani can’t fail herself anymore. She’s been doing it for far too long.

Her application was strong, as were her references, but waiting for the result of admission was _excruciating_. Eddie had noticed the tension in her, tried to be more affectionate, more passionate, but it had only driven her further away. His arm on her felt like a branding iron, his lips uncoordinated and dominating, the ring on her finger felt like an unbreakable shackle, representing a promise she knows she can’t keep. She fakes her way through orgasms, takes hot showers after any intimacy, hides her birth control pills in an old vitamin bottle. Pretends to be fine as she loses the glimmer in her eyes. Hardly recognises the face in the mirror anymore.

So when she gets her acceptance letter, she starts getting ready to run.

*

The second her bursary hits her bank account in August, she books her flight. All she leaves behind is a note, an apology, and the ring she’d wrenched off her finger in a last act of defiance to the world she’d been chained into. She’d chosen a night where Eddie was out drinking, giving her a few hours to pack whatever she could without him noticing, ensuring that he’d be out like a light by the time she left. Everything went to plan - Dani had crept around like a thief in the night to retrieve her bags from the cupboard she’d stashed them in, moving quickly and silently down to the waiting cab, locking the door behind her and dropping her key back through the letterbox. No going back now, then.

The inevitable seeds of doubt start gently emerging in the airport, but Dani squeezes her eyes shut and forces them away, losing herself over shitty coffee and the bustle of people around her. She wonders how many of them are starting anew, who else in the terminal is throwing their life into the void as a last-ditch attempt to save themselves. She can’t go back now. She _won’t_ go back.

The journey passes in the blink of an eye, it seems - over twenty hours of travelling and Dani hardly notices. She knows vaguely that she must be exhausted - she hasn’t slept in well over a day, and the adrenaline will only last so long - but the combination of caffeine, anxiety, and excitement is more effective than any amount of sleep has ever proved. By the time the train is rolling into Cambridge, she’s gone through all seven stages of grief several times over. The pit in her stomach hasn’t eased up yet, and her hands have begun to shake, but whether that’s from exhaustion or anxiety, who knows. She hails a cab to take her to her accommodation - the walk to the University is long, and while she only has a couple of bags with her, the past twenty four hours are beginning to take their toll. The final leg of her journey takes only a few minutes. The cab driver, an enthusiastic guy in his thirties, points out places of interest as he goes - the botanical gardens, some of the Colleges, the Fitzwilliam Museum. Dani nods, staring out of the window at the medieval buildings going by, wondering what’s happening in the world she’s left behind. She’d said she was travelling to the UK, but no further detail - Eddie would only follow her, and Dani’s hoping to reduce her contact with her mother down to a couple of yearly phone calls anyway.

It’s the cruelest thing she could have done, that voice in her head tells her. To up and leave the people that love her and run away in the night. But that was the problem, really, wasn’t it? Her mother hadn’t given her the time of day since she was five. Eddie had only loved the version of her he’d created. Danielle Clayton - Danielle O’Mara, as she’d almost been - was a product made by the people around her. Dani Clayton refuses to be.

*

Arriving a couple of weeks before the start of term turned out to be an excellent decision. Dani already has a favourite café, knows the routes to and around Clare College like the back of her hand. Plenty of time has been spent in the libraries; she prefers the library within the College, the Forbes Mellon, to the central University Library. Both are spectacular places, but she likes the intimacy of Forbes. It’s not much to look at from the outside, thin pillars and a distinct lack of decoration, but the inside is beautiful. Books line every wall from floor to ceiling, the soft shine of the lights gives a warm orange glow to the building. The desks for study are in the middle of the hub, abandoned over the holidays, but the librarians have given her an idea of when they get busy and the best times to secure a seat.

Dani’s favourite spot without question is the window desk on the balcony. It stands pride of place in the middle, the window protruding out and facing the greenery of the campus. It’ll be a hard spot to get during term time, but that makes her treasure it all the same, settling down with one of the few novels she’d brought from Iowa as the sun sets in the evening. Once the term begins, these idyllic moments will likely be few and far between, so Dani resolves to romanticise these two weeks as much as possible. To find a balance before the whirlwind of work begins.

Her preliminary reading is done, leaving her with precious spare time to explore the College. Clare is one of the formidable medieval buildings, being the second-oldest of the Colleges, and Dani has already fallen in love with it. The main square - _quad_ , she reminds herself, trying to keep up with the dialect of the University - makes up basically the entirety of Clare, with the back of the College going down to the Backs, and the aforementioned Forbes Mellon Library across the river with the undergraduate accommodation. Dani spends a lot of time in the chapel - she’s never been religious, not really, but she finds it grounds her when her thoughts begin to spiral. Instead of those persistent panics about Eddie or her mother, she slides into a pew and stares at the stained glass windows, feeling small and immaterial among the grandiose stone and glasswork. The right kind of small, this time. The chapel doesn’t force her down into a reduction of who she is, not like her previous life, as she’s taken to calling it. It simply reminds her of her place in the world, of all the scholars that have pre-dated her here and gone out into the world feeling more sure of themselves than Dani ever thinks she has.

There’s a lot of beautiful spots in Cambridge, but so far Dani finds she prefers the Clare’s Fellows’ Garden. It’s quieter than the main campuses, separated by foliage from the College quads and the Backs, which fill up quickly in the first weeks of term as everyone hurries to catch the last of the summer. Sometimes the atmosphere is nice - Dani likes to sit there with Becca in the sun, studying or chatting depending on the time of year. They’d met on Dani’s second day there, the only two people in the library, and had struck up an easy conversation. Becca was in her final year of undergrad, studying law, and planned to return to Clare for her postgraduate study. Her boyfriend, Peter, was over at St. John’s, studying economics, but Dani privately thinks he sounds like someone best avoided. Becca, however, is sweet and patient, and lives in a hall next to the library, making it easy for her to invite Dani over for tea on the days they cross paths. Dani accepts, every time, grateful to have already made a friend. She’ll miss Becca when she heads home for Christmas.

The Fellows’ Garden, though, that’s her spot.

Any green space in the University is beautifully kept, but the garden has a kind of life to it that she hasn’t observed anywhere else yet. It keeps the uniformity required, but the flowers grow tall and proud, the trees unbending in the wind, everything feels like it’s got its own individual soul to it, and Dani _adores_ it. It feels alive - and it makes Dani feel alive too. She particularly likes a long section of purple flowers, not knowing for the life of her what they’re called, but enjoying their vibrancy. The library is lovely, but catching the last of the summer sun with a book is absolute heaven.

And if she spends more time watching the gardener than reading, well, nobody’s around to notice.

The woman in question is small but muscular, usually in dungarees and her hair drives Dani crazy. Soft brown curls to match her eyes, a variety of t-shirts of various bands and singers, and while Dani has never actually seen her smile, there’s a magnetic charm about her that draws Dani in, makes her mouth go dry and her mind forget what’s on the page she’s reading. It’s the gardener’s fault that she’s been trying to get through _The Handmaid’s Tale_ for four days now. No matter how gripping the book is, Dani can’t focus on anything but the hands tending the plants near her, or the gentle hum of a radio as the gardener works across the garden.

They haven’t been introduced yet - Dani offered a hesitant smile and got an inquisitive eyebrow raise in return the first time their paths crossed, but nothing further. It’s a Friday, the last weekday before term starts, and Dani, determined to get through Margaret Atwood’s finest, has settled on a bench with a bottle of lemonade by her side, her legs curled up and under her in the fading heat. She likes it best there in the afternoons, after the summer sun has had its peak and has started crawling west, gently sinking into brushstrokes of orange and yellow across the sky as the evenings draw in. Plus, she knows that’s when the gardener will be there, and hey, why avoid a good thing?

Half an hour or so passes before she catches sight of the mystery woman, her eyes drifting upwards lazily. The gardener is working on what Dani _thinks_ is a young cedar tree, doing something-or-other with the soil and making sure it’s growing straight. Whatever she’s doing, it’s fascinating.

The afternoon drags on like this, with Dani trying - and spectacularly failing - to keep up with her novel. The gardener has moved closer, pruning some bushes close to Dani’s bench now, humming to herself along with the crackly radio. Dani is forcing her eyes down, turning pages without absorbing a single word. It’s only when a sudden cough from the gardener makes her jump, her leg knocking the glass bottle off of the bench as she does.

The lemonade fizzes over the grass as Dani springs up and flails to grab the bottle, worried she’s somehow ruined the greenery and the sanctity of the space. She’s nervous now, almost shouting an apology as she turns and half-runs out of the garden. Somewhere in her mind is a voice telling her how ridiculous she’s being, how she’s done nothing wrong at all, but the rest of her is consumed with the fact that she’s done something to taint the gardeners hard work, and all she can think about is getting out of the way. She walks across the river bridge and leans against the pillar at the end of it, sighing deeply and cursing as she realises her paperback is still in the garden. Dani closes her eyes, letting her head drop back against the stone, and almost jumps out of her skin when a warm hand touches her arm.

She opens her eyes, and it’s the gardener. She wants to say something, but her entire body is on fire from the contact, and she stares dumbly at the hand until it’s removed, the gardener pressing _The Handmaid’s Tale_ into her hand. “Hey, uh, you left this behind.”

Dani stares down at the book, then up at the gardener, who looks a bit concerned - _at least she isn’t angry_ , Dani thinks, relief hitting her.

“Are you okay? Didn’t mean to startle you.”

The gardener’s voice is sharp and smooth at the same time - Dani can recognise the different accent, but can’t pinpoint exactly where in the North it hails to. “Oh - sorry, yes, I just, uh, felt bad. About the drink. On the grass. Sorry.”

The gardener, to Dani’s surprise, half-smiles at her, and God almighty, Dani feels weak at the knees. “I’ve put that grass through far worse than a bit of White & Sons. It’ll be fine. Plus, wouldn’t want to scare you away, even if you had fucked it up entirely”

Dani finally relaxes, breathing out a laugh. “Thank you. I’m Dani, Dani Clayton.”

Brown eyes look her up and down in amusement, before the gardener offers her hand. “Jamie Taylor. Now, do you want to sit back down, or do I have to spend today without anybody to watch me?”

Sudden confidence courses through Dani as she takes the proffered hand. “Sure. Wouldn’t want to leave you alone,” she replies, congratulating herself on a somewhat coherent reply. Jamie grins at her properly now, making room for Dani and falling into step behind her, and _oh_ , Dani thinks. _This is about to become a very big problem._


	2. riverside connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hallo loves. there’s much more jamie here, but also a bit more worldbuilding - as i’ve discussed with a few of you in the comments, both the colleges and cambridge itself are incredibly familiar to me, so i want to make sure that everybody else has a coherent image in their mind - it'll be mentioned in this kind of detail at least for the next couple of chapters. i hope it’s working, and thank you for bearing with me!

Jamie is wonderfully easy to get along with, and if she didn’t know better, Dani would say they’d met before, such is the comfortable nature of the conversation.

She learns that Jamie is an ex-student at Cambridge, that she’d studied Linguistics at Trinity Hall, but had most unusually been offered a gardening job at Clare before she’d even graduated, one that she’d taken. Jamie brushes over her reasoning - something for a future conversation, Dani thinks, and enjoys the tingle of excitement at the idea of  _ future conversations _ with Jamie.

Dani tells her a little about herself in exchange. Leaves out the detail, but mentions Eddie, how it ended, and how she’d started fresh. Touches on her disastrous relationship with her mother, and what drew her to Clare College. Jamie listens attentively, and Dani really thinks it might be the first time anybody’s ever actually  _ listened  _ to her. Jamie asks questions, extracts details of America from her, and Dani spends so much time smiling that her face physically hurts by the end of the afternoon.

The sun setting draws their focus away from each other. Jamie still has work to do, and Dani only has a couple of days before term starts, she should really be going back over her reading and checking her timetable. She’s reluctant to go, and mumbles something about coming back to finish her book tomorrow, blushing heavily when Jamie tells her to  _ forget the book, just bring yourself and I’ll rustle up some sandwiches. _ This friendship - if that’s what it is, it certainly feels like it - is different to Becca, and Dani knows exactly why.

It’s dangerous, she knows, to  _ quite literally _ flee a relationship only to even consider tumbling head-first into another one. It’s ridiculous that she’s even entertaining it - she’s barely met Jamie, doesn’t know her leanings, for all she knows Jamie’s been married for four years and is heading home to her husband right now. Something, though, tells her that that isn’t the case. Something in the way Jamie’s eyes sparkled, the way she’d subtly adjusted her body to lean into Dani as Dani spoke. Wishful thinking? Possibly. But this entire plan so far had been wishful thinking at one point, and Dani is desperately trying to train herself out of shutting down prospects before they’d had a chance to prove her otherwise.

Jamie is on her mind her entire walk home. Queen’s Road is busy as always, and she catches a glimpse of some of the other Colleges as she walks - King’s, Queen’s, she walks right past Darwin as she turns on to Newnham Road. Her flat - a small, University-provided studio - is tucked away near a small gallery, only a couple of minutes from the river, which Dani was thrilled to discover. It’ll be nice to keep a more secluded part of it when the College gets busy.

She really, really loves her flat. Having gone from her mother’s house directly to Eddie’s, it’s the first time she’s ever had somewhere of her own. It’s small, there’s no avoiding that - her bathroom is separate, but it’s a basic bedsit, the only thing her scholarship money would cover. A single pine bed with a pale blue duvet cover takes up almost a fifth of the space by itself. The College had provided her with a desk, a chair, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, a mini-fridge, and a microwave, and Dani is determined to etch herself into the space. She’d already done a quick shop earlier in the week, and it’s beginning to look brighter - a new peach shampoo and conditioner set sits in the shower, a small canvas of a sunset over the river purchased from the print shop is balanced on her desk. Her few novels, sorted alphabetically by author surname, are tucked on the bookshelf, and her clothes are neatly hanging in the wardrobe. A couple of mugs on the kitchen counter, a lamp on her bedside table, her course textbooks on the desk. It’s only a start, but Dani is oddly excited to watch the space grow. Hopefully by the end, she’ll be so ingrained in the space that whoever inherits it will feel that same homeliness that she’s beginning to.

The best part, by a mile, is the window seat. It isn’t technically designed as one - the window protrudes at a slight angle, making a wide sort of scalene triangle, but Dani’s short stature means she can just about make it work comfortably. The window is on the opposite side to the road, and she can see the expanse of Lammas Land rolling on, a large park bridging the gap between the road and the river. It’s nice to wake up and see  _ life _ around her, in the trees, in the land, and in the people out on morning walks. She doesn’t know whether she’ll stay in Cambridge after her course finishes, but wherever she ends up, she knows a window seat is going to be a priority. 

The final touch to the window seat had been a cushion found in an antique shop. A little threadbare, it had definitely seen better days, but Dani likes that it has character. Most of it is the colour of the sky, but what she likes best are the visible patches on it, in varying shades of grey and dove-blue, clearly added over time judging by the different states of them. It sounds silly, but Dani can see that it’s been loved by someone who wanted to take the time to fix it instead of replace it. She likes to think she’s carrying that legacy on, by giving it a second life. If it tears, well, she’s no seamstress, but she’ll figure out a way to add her own patch on. It feels like a bizarre kind of heirloom, and she briefly wonders when she became lonely enough to attach so deeply to a cushion. 

*

The evening is a gorgeous one, and despite spending most of her day outside, Dani finds herself going for another walk after dinner, leaving her dishes to soak in the sink. She’ll deal with them when she gets back. It’s colder than it was earlier, the late September chill beginning to work its way in, and she grabs a jacket on her way out, pocketing her keys and a random paperback in case she feels like stopping. 

She decides to have a look around the part of the city she’s less familiar with, taking a left away from the city centre towards Newnham and Selwyn Colleges. Newnham had been her second choice, after Clare, the appeal of the red-brick building and all-female environment a tempting one. The alumni list is impressive - Rosalind Franklin, Philippa Fawcett, Sylvia Plath, names Dani had grown up admiring. But even though she didn’t know these women, she didn’t want to subconsciously mould herself to them. Didn’t want her fresh start to begin with her trying to replicate people that had gone before her. The pang of regret disappears just as quickly as it arrives, as she continues past the Sidgwick Site buildings, making sure to remember how long the walk to them is, in preparation for her lectures beginning. As the main Humanities site of the University, she knows already she’ll be spending a sizeable chunk of her time there, and makes a mental note to have a proper scout around when the term officially starts.

The city is beautiful, but the peacefulness Dani finds on the outskirts is even better. A lot of the green spaces here belong to the Colleges, used as sports grounds - Emmanuel, Pembroke, Corpus Christi, one in the distance that Dani vaguely thinks could belong to Clare Hall, but she can’t quite be bothered to go and find out, instead looping up by Robinson to walk by the University Library. Considers heading in - she’s got her student card in her pocket - but instead chooses the fresh air, wandering down into the Trinity College Fellows’ Garden. 

She’s not a hundred percent sure she’s allowed to be there - there’s so many different rules for different Colleges and different spaces - but nobody stops her, and the expanse of the greenery is twice the size of Clare’s, so she doubts anybody will notice. Trinity is one of the biggest Colleges, and the beauty of arriving so early in the academic year means that she’s just another new face in the crowd. The garden isn’t quite as well-kept as Clare’s, she notes with pride. It’s pretty, and clearly looked-after, but it lacks the soul that Jamie has poured into her plants. Everything is a little  _ too _ clipped back, a little too uniform. But, Dani thinks, it’s an open space with decent lighting, and as she fishes out the spontaneous paperback - Virginia Woolf’s  _ Orlando _ this time - she notes once again the sheer beauty of the place she’s escaped to.

*

Saturday afternoon rolls around quickly, and Dani is somewhat nervous as she walks towards the Fellows’ Garden. She thinks of Jamie’s words from the previous day -  _ forget the book, just bring yourself _ \- but she feels like she’s left her armour behind. Usually, when walking around, she has the option to sit and distract herself, something to hold onto to stop her hands fidgeting. She pushes open the iron gate, eyes darting around for Jamie, tries to push down the sting of disappointment she feels at the empty garden. She stops in the entrance for a few minutes, wondering if Jamie was kidding, or if she’d somehow misinterpreted the conversation. Her brain is beginning to tick into overdrive -  _ fuck _ , she could really do with one of her bloody books right now.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a familiar voice says behind her, sending a shiver down her spine as she turns. Jamie is standing with a grin and a small picnic basket, her hair loosely tied back and, if Dani’s not mistaken, a hint of mascara on her eyelashes. Either Jamie always makes this much of an effort on her day off -  _ and _ , Dani thinks,  _ that’s a distinct possibility -  _ or she’s gone to the same kind of effort that Dani has. Dani tries not to think about the implications of that.

“Hey, no, that’s fine. I only just got here.” 

Jamie just smiles at her for a moment, before gesturing forward, stepping past Dani to lead her to a far corner of the garden, one that Dani hasn’t paid much attention to. A tall willow tree stands sentry over the space, assorted tall bushes next to it, and Jamie beckons for Dani to follow her through the willow fronds. Dani briefly wonders if she’s about to eat a late lunch on a bed of sticks, but they quickly emerge on the other side, a secluded spot overlooking the river.

“Not many people know about this bit. Or, well, they don’t know how to get here. Feels like my bit, you know?”

Dani nods, her eyes roaming. “I think the whole garden feels like your space,” she says softly. The spot Jamie has taken them to, though, does feel more private than even the corners of the garden does. The tree and the bushes behind and to the right of them create a kind of corner that extends down to the riverbank, ensuring people can’t just wander over. Riverside flowers have been carefully planted, presumably by Jamie, and Dani makes a mental note to ask about them when they’re sitting comfortably. Clare College’s Old Quad stands looming across the river in front of them, somehow looking even more magnificent in the afternoon light. It gives Dani the same sort of feeling she gets in the chapel - the feeling of being a tiny cog in a huge wheel. But tiny doesn’t mean insignificant. And already, less than two weeks after arriving, she feels like she’s making a home here.

While she’s been thinking, Jamie has spread a tartan blanket over the grass, taking a few sandwiches out of the basket and offering a cheese one to Dani. They sit, eating in a peaceful silence - something else that strikes Dani as mundanely significant. Silences with Eddie always felt awkward, loaded for all the wrong reasons. Any time it arose they were quick to try and fill it, usually resulting in painful small talk, or Dani getting an hour-long description of the same job Eddie had been doing since they graduated. There’s no pressure with Jamie, though. Their eyes meet every so often, warm smiles mirroring each other, and Dani wonders if this is what bliss feels like.

Jamie breaks the silence first. “So, you said you were studying education? Feels like there’s a joke in there.”

Dani smiles. “Yeah. Critical Approaches to Children’s Literature, to give it its full name. I want to teach, I think. Younger kids. But I want to be the kind of teacher kids genuinely like. You know? The kind who knows their stuff so...inside-out, that you know you can ask them anything and they’re the perfect person to help.”

Jamie nods. “For what it’s worth, I think you already are, Poppins.”

A blonde eyebrow shoots up. “Poppins?” 

“Yeah. Fell out of the sky to better the lives of English children. Sounds like you.”

There isn’t a single trace of sarcasm in Jamie’s voice, and Dani is warmed at the faith Jamie seemingly already has in her. “Poppins. I like that. Anyway, yeah, I want to teach English. But I want to be able to teach independently. Not get bound by the syllabus. So this course seemed perfect to get to know how to apply all that learning we do as teenagers to kids books as well. They’re just as important. More important, I think.”

There’s a silence as Jamie considers her words. “Yeah, I agree. What you read as a kid can really shape your view of the world. I grew up on Enid Blyton, and look at me now. Practically trying to grow my own Magic Faraway Tree.”

Dani laughs at that, the way Jamie shoots her a boyish grin. Someone  _ gets it,  _ she thinks excitedly. Understands what she’s passionate about, and why she’s passionate about it. Eddie had never been dismissive, not exactly, but she’d only ever discussed her undergrad degree on a very basic level. Her academics have always been  _ her _ thing, not  _ their _ thing. She didn’t want to share it with him, with anyone. But now, she thinks, sharing it with Jamie doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

“So, teaching?” Jamie presses on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I studied education back in the States, but when I graduated, well, Eddie got a job and I didn’t. He always said I didn’t need one, that I should just keep the house and enjoy my free time.”

“Macho man, huh?”

Dani laughs again, the idea of anybody referring to Eddie as  _ macho _ entertains her greatly. “Hardly. Just traditional, I guess. His mom never worked either, so they just expected I wouldn’t want to.”

Jamie shifts next to her, taking her jacket off and dropping it on the grass. “I have a question.”

Dani doesn’t look at her, instead staring out over the river, ignoring the squeals of summer punters coming from King’s College, Clare’s next-door neighbour. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s just that, well, for an escape plan, surely there’s easier places to go? Studying here almost killed me. I don’t want that for you.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“It’s the one place I liked where Eddie couldn’t follow me.”

Jamie mulls this over for a moment. “Dani. You applied to - and got accepted, mind you - to arguably the most difficult place of study in the world, because you didn’t want your ex to show up on your doorstep.”

Dani bites her lip, hesitant. “I guess?”

“Poppins. Seriously. You’re my fucking hero.”

*

Jamie walks her home, ignoring Dani’s half-hearted protests that she’ll be okay. She’s secretly glad for the extra time together - the later in the day it gets, the more it starts to feel like a date, and Dani can’t help the way her stomach ties itself in excited knots at the prospect. She wants to invite Jamie in, wants to lead her up and talk and talk and talk until the sun rises in the morning and there’s nothing left to talk about. It’s a stark contrast to her time with Eddie, when every day was about finding the right excuse, the right balance between nods and hums to make herself seem attentive as her mind started to wander. But then, nothing about Jamie is like Eddie.

It should scare her, really.

(It doesn’t.)

They stop outside of Dani’s apartment block, looking at each other. Dani opens her mouth to speak, but Jamie beats her to it, breaking eye contact to look down at the pavement, then back up. “Listen, Dani, I had a really great time today,” she begins, pausing at the end. Dani can see the cogs turning in her head, can pinpoint to the exact millisecond Jamie makes up her mind to say what she wants to. “I like you. A lot. So-” another pause. “Can I take you out sometime? Properly, I mean. To dinner, or the pub, or wherever.”

Jamie’s looking at her with the first inkling of doubt Dani’s ever seen her wear. Something in her eyes is suddenly unsure, the confidence she displays proudly has a tiny crack in it, a moment of vulnerability at Dani’s silence.

“Look, sorry, I’ve obviously read it wrong-”

“No! No, I mean, yes, yeah, I’d love that. Really. Classes start Monday, but I should be done about half four?” Dani darts forwards to take Jamie’s hand as she speaks, gently running her thumb over Jamie’s knuckles. The contact is  _ electric.  _ Dani feels more alive than thirteen years of knowing Eddie had ever made her feel.

Jamie is the first to move, gently breaking contact and stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Alright. Monday, then. Pick you up at six?”

Dani nods, beaming, the grin on her face so wide she feels like her jaw is about to split. “Six. Great. See you then.”

She turns to unlock the door, flashing a last smile at Jamie as she does, and waiting for the other woman to turn away before she closes it behind her. Heading up the stairs, she can’t contain her excitement, shutting the flat door behind her and launching herself onto her bed, grinning up at the ceiling.

Well. This was an unexpected turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah the slow burn tag has been thrown out the window
> 
> also, a question; would it be helpful if i shared a pinterest board of all the locations mentioned, to help visualise it? the setting is so important that i’m happy to drop a link in next chapter x


	3. wine and dine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year sweethearts. starting to gear up a little here. I have to admit i’m not actually sure if the supervision system continues into postgrad, but if it doesn’t, consider this poetic licence.
> 
> the promised pinterest! there's a few locations on there that haven't been mentioned yet so ignore them for now, enjoy.  
> https://pin.it/POnV4w4

As much as Dani wants to think about nothing but her upcoming date, the first day of term leaves her with very little time to focus on anything.

The Cambridge supervision system is different from any method of teaching she’s had before. There’s two students and a tutor, meeting weekly to discuss the course and the work they’ve been doing. Dani hadn’t quite prepared herself for the workload she was about to face - each lecture had about fifty pages of reading alongside it, her seminars usually involved some kind of task, and her tutorials are likely to result in weekly essays being set. It’s a lot, but she’s passionate about her learning; it feels exciting, rather than scary.

She has her tutorials with Viola, a second-year PhD student at Clare’s studying Medieval Literature. They’re a bit of a strange mix, but Dani finds within ten minutes of their first session that actually, having somebody studying literature in a completely different way to her is genuinely helpful - Viola has historical context for children’s tales that Dani doesn’t, and Dani complements her by drawing Viola’s focus to surviving religious texts aimed at young people. Viola is, for lack of a better word, intimidating - her approach to her studies is a lot more sharply logical than Dani’s. But when she smiles at the end of their session, congratulates Dani on her admission to the College and thanks her for her help, Dani feels like she’s on top of the world.

She leaves Selwyn College, the site of her supervision, walking back home in the couple of hours between her supervision and afternoon lecture. Her plan is to go back over the required reading and stop by a stationery shop on her way back to Sidgwick. Selwyn is pretty, Victorian red-brick with a huge chapel that she vaguely remembers reading that Newnham students are allowed to use, and she hopes she’ll get to see more of it over the course of her tutorials. She sees Viola ahead of her, meeting with another woman who looks similar -  _ Perdita,  _ she thinks, remembering Viola’s mention of her sister, another Cambridge constituent of Lucy Cavendish College, also reading for a PhD in some kind of literature. There’s a third sister somewhere in the mix, an undergraduate at Sidney Sussex,  _ Isabel _ , Dani recalls.  _ What a terrifying family _ , she thinks, grateful that she never had siblings to compete with. Her mother had proved more than enough work.

But the day is drawing on, and she doesn’t have time to contemplate. Her mind wanders over to Jamie and the night ahead - lovely to think about, but not especially helpful when she’s trying to get through a journal about  _ Charlotte’s Web _ and the prevalence of books and teaching empathy. It’s an interesting article, one Dani vaguely remembers reading after she’d arrived, and she’s glad of the refresher.

Her lecture passes quickly, though she notes with faint irritation that they’d spent more time being introduced to the course than actually being taught about the set text for the week, but there’ll be plenty of time for that in her Wednesday seminar. Now, with her academic day done, she’s free to think about Jamie properly. She can’t tell if that’s a blessing or a curse.

She makes it home from Sidgwick in record time, practically throwing herself in the shower. Dani curses herself for not asking Jamie what the tone for the evening was - she doesn’t want to dress up too much, but she also doesn’t want to be too casual -  _ dinner, maybe the pub _ is all she has to go on. If Clare College was closer she’d go and ask Becca, but she doesn’t want to waste the time she has, resolving to tell her tomorrow over their library study date and just hope for the best tonight.

Her hair dries mercifully quickly, leaving her with a solid half hour to pin it into place, opting to keep half of it loose and half of it gently twisted and pinned back, letting the underside frame her face in a way she’s always liked. Her makeup is light, a touch around her eyes to bring out the blue of them. She must spend almost half an hour staring at her wardrobe - too many of her clothes remind her of nights with Eddie, and she decides on a shopping trip if she can ever manage to get a job. In the meantime, though, she opts for a floral sundress with her everyday denim jacket to tone it down a little, and some white sandals. Dani spends ages craning around in her bathroom mirror to try and judge the tone, but she thinks she’s got the middle ground pretty right.

In a contrast to how fast the day had gone, the time ticks agonizingly slowly - fifteen minutes turns to ten, then five, and Dani has taken to pacing around the tiny space she has, unable to settle to even look out of the window. Her excitement has been slowly overtaken with nerves at the sudden formality of her blossoming friendship. What if Jamie takes her out and realises she only wants something platonic? What if Dani embarrasses herself, or says the wrong thing, or asks too much? What if-

The ring of the doorbell stops her in her tracks.  _ Alright then. Deep breath. _

She grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder, making sure she has her purse, keys, and student card, just in case. She steadies herself before opening the building door, stopping dead as her eyes alight on Jamie, who is waiting in the path looking nothing short of mouth-watering. 

Jamie has wrestled her hair into some kind of updo, leaving just the right amount of curls free around her face. She’s got lipstick on - as if Dani needed any excuse to stare at her lips - and a form-fitting black dress with a leather jacket over the top, and floral-patterned fishnets leading into ankle-boots.  _ Christ _ , Dani thinks.  _ I don’t stand a chance. _

Her stunned silence is broken by Jamie leaning in, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Don’t look so bad yourself, Poppins. Come along then.”

Dani wills her legs to move, falling into step beside Jamie, who gives a little more information on where they’re going. Dani vaguely remembers walking past  _ A Batter Place _ , a glowing hub of activity on the otherwise quiet Green Street. She learns that Jamie lives with the owners, sharing a small house up on Thompson’s Lane near St John’s College, and Dani notes with pride that Jamie had gone almost to the other side of town to walk her home on Saturday. It’s a pleasant evening, the cool September air is crisp and the buildings they walk past gently lit up. When they reach Green Street, Dani feels Jamie’s hand on the small of her back as she guides them to the restaurant, where they’re greeted immediately by a young, nervous-looking waitress as she shows them to their table.

Jamie has got them a booth in the corner, away from prying eyes and just intimate enough that Dani has to swallow her nerves again. The walls consist of tall arches, shelves of bottles stacked up that reflect the light at all angles around the restaurant. There’s a small potted fern next to them, and Dani notes the plants that adorn the space, knowing instinctively they’re Jamie’s handiwork. They give their orders to the waitress -  _ Isabel, _ her name tag reads, and Dani wonders absently if this is Viola’s sister. There’s definite similarities, but she feels awkward asking, tucking it away to mention in her next supervision.

They make gentle small-talk for a bit, Jamie asking about her day and listening attentively to Dani’s rambling thoughts about the College and her course. Even lets Dani explain her reading - something Eddie never bothered to ask about. There’s enthusiasm in Jamie’s eyes that matches her own, and she sees that same will to learn in the gardener, mirrored in herself. They feel equal - emotionally, intellectually, and Dani is thrilled at every little nod Jamie gives her, every question she asks.

The food is fantastic, both of them opting for Italian spaghetti dishes, and Jamie talks to her about the owners for a bit. Owen and Hannah, their names are, Owen being a top-ranking chef trained in Paris, and Hannah a Fellow of Theology at St. Catherine’s College. “She’s, like,  _ ridiculously  _ good. One of the top scholars in the country. Her focus is on the history of Christianity, but she’s so good about it, you know? I was a bit worried, about the whole lesbian thing, but they’ve never made me feel any less part of their world. Plus, rent’s cheap,” Jamie smiles at the last bit, reaching for her wine glass. 

Dani senses an opening. “Yeah. I think you choose your family, really. Blood doesn’t really mean that much, I don’t think.”

Jamie looks at her over the rim of her glass, considering. “Yeah. Yeah, I like that. I don’t talk to mine, not anymore, so it’s nice to have a better option.”

“You can talk about it, if you want. It’s not like mine is worth showing off about either.” Dani offers her a hesitant smile, one that Jamie returns.

“Another time, yeah? Don’t want to lower the tone before I’ve had a chance to properly wine and dine you.”

Dani laughs, taking a sip of her chardonnay and, in a moment of confidence, leaning slightly forward to cover Jamie’s hand with her own. “Okay. So tell me about gardening. You listen to all of my interests, I want to hear about yours.”

Jamie grins at her, turning her hand over to properly take Dani’s. “Well, how can I resist that?”

She talks of everything under the sun, weaving Dani a tale of the growth of the Clare’s Gardens, her favourite trees, how to encourage things to grow, the instinct gardening requires. “It’s not just following a recipe. You’re not baking. You have to listen as well,” Jamie says, referencing the sorry state she’d found the riverbank in when she first started, how she’d sat and planned exactly what needed doing. Dani finally asks about the flowers in the spot they’d spent Saturday afternoon in, finding that they’re crocuses, and Jamie explains to her how the river is the perfect environment for them, providing the water they need while creating a kind of self-draining system to avoid the roots rotting. Dani is captivated.

The information she’s receiving is interesting, but the way Jamie speaks and expresses herself is what really holds Dani’s attention. At some point she’d extracted her hand from Dani’s, using it to gesture as she speaks, painting a map in the air of the flowerbed patterns. Dani asks about Jamie’s degree, wondering how it all tied in, and finds that Jamie had been interested in language evolution, somehow managing to tie even that into her love of plants. “It’s the same, really, Poppins. You put all your time and attention into figuring out the patterns, whether it’s a language or a new kind of flower. You figure out how it grows and how it changes, and you make yourself work around it.”

Something in her words strikes a chord in Dani - she feels almost like Jamie is describing  _ her. _ How she too is growing, evolving, figuring out what works for her and taking note of what lets her grow. She too has spent far too long trying to fit herself into somebody else’s equation. A warmth spreads over her, one that’s been lingering all day, and she cracks a joke about being another plant for Jamie to learn about, almost spitting wine over the table as Jamie makes a risque comment about  _ tending her soil. _

She’s opening her mouth to reply when a smiling man walks over, greeting them quietly. Jamie smiles up at him, and introduces him as Owen -  _ that’ll be the chef’s uniform, then _ , Dani realises, and blushes heavily as Jamie introduces her as her date for the evening. 

Owen is a welcome addition to the evening - as much as Dani had assumed it would just be her and Jamie, she likes that she’s got another window into Jamie’s life. Owen is charming, answering all of Dani’s questions about Paris with enthusiasm and working in puns that make Jamie audibly groan, hitting him lightly on the arm. He leaves them with a free dessert and an open invitation for Dani to come over for dinner sometime, in their house, rather than in the restaurant, which she warmly accepts.

Jamie grins at her like she’s hung the moon.

*

Dani wakes on Tuesday with a skip in her step. She’d slept well, dreams filled with Jamie, things that just a few weeks ago would have made her die of embarrassment, but now that those dreams are possible...well. The flush on her cheeks isn’t one of shame anymore.

She considers stopping in at the Fellows’ Garden on her way to meet Becca, but decides against it. She’ll drop by on her way home - if she sees Jamie now, she’ll never make it to the library, and she doesn’t want to let Becca down. The Forbes Mellon is busier than Dani’s seen it before, but she grins as she spots Becca in their favourite window space, making her way up the stairs to the mezzanine. Beyond being a nice place to sit, it gives them enough distance from other students to whisper to each other without causing a stir.

Becca notices immediately how distracted Dani is, but she doesn’t comment on it. A few eyebrow raises, a few nods at the page that Dani’s now read three times over, though, and eventually Dani huffs, muttered a  _ yes, I had a date last night,  _ causing a squeal from Becca, who is immediately shushed by a cross-looking librarian.

“Alright, pack it up. Let’s go back to mine and you can tell me  _ everything _ ,” Becca says, already shutting her book excitedly and shoving it into her bag. Dani rolls her eyes good-naturedly, nodding - after all, when was the last time she had a friend to talk about this stuff with? Any friends of hers were Eddie’s friends, really. So much of her life had revolved around him that she hadn’t really had time to make any of her own.

*

After Becca has pried every single detail out of Dani, cracking out some wine as she presses for detail, Dani notices with surprise that it’s dark outside, gathering her things and leaving Becca with a hug on her way out. She looks over at the Fellows’ Garden, locked up for the night. Shit. She’d wanted to stop by and see Jamie on the way back, but the gardener will be long gone by now.

She curses herself for not getting Jamie’s phone number, briefly considers going to the restaurant, but it all feels like a step too far.  _ It’s been one date, _ Dani reminds herself, picking up the pace on her walk home.  _ Don’t show up at her doorstep after one date _ . She makes up her mind to stop by the Fellows’ Garden tomorrow, keep it casual, try and tone back just what a monumental part of her life Jamie is in danger of becoming.

That’s sort of her issue, though. She  _ wants _ Jamie to know she’s keen. Jamie is too, she can see it in their every interaction - Dani’s spent far too long holding back, squashing her romantic feelings down, trying to shape them to Eddie, and she’s  _ tired.  _ She’d rather be too enthusiastic, let the other person know with absolute clarity where she stood and what she wanted, than to play it cool and act aloof. 

_ Still. There’s always tomorrow,  _ she thinks, letting the thought comfort her as she settles in for the night, making a mental note to watch just how much wine Becca puts in her glass in future.

_ There’s always tomorrow. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm writing these at the speed of fucking light, and while i was hoping to stretch it out a bit, at this rate you're getting uploads at a rate of every two days, so i hope that's alright. here's to 2021 x


	4. conversations, jesus, and blondie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck it, just have another chapter. i'm starting to feel my hyperfocus shift to another au, so i'm gonna go for longer chapters and cut it from 16 to 8 - same amount of content, but it'll allow me to steamroll through them and get this out faster, while starting to think about another one. plus, i'm impatient and i want to get to the good stuff. hope that's alright!

Jamie isn’t there.

Dani is standing in the entrance to the Fellows’ Garden, cheeks flushed from the speed-walk to get there from her afternoon seminar. And Jamie isn’t there.

In the three weeks Dani has been in Cambridge, Jamie has worked every weekday without fail. She’s healthy and fit as a fiddle, rain or shine, always takes Saturdays as her day off. And yet now, on a sunny day with a slight breeze, she’s not there.

_ Oh God, _ Dani realises, an icy wave washing over her.  _ It’s me. _

And just like that, every millisecond of anxiety she’s ever felt in her life smacks into her at full speed, forcing her to half-fall onto the nearest bench as her confidence abandons her.  _ It has to be me, _ she thinks.  _ Nothing else has changed.  _ She squeezes her eyes shut, memories of every time Eddie had said he was the only one for her, every time her mother had said Dani could never hope to be good enough for anyone else. Every moment she’s felt inadequate, irritating, every time she’s worried too much about how she’s coming off are stacking up against her now, and it feels like walls are closing in. She can’t breathe. She can’t  _ breathe. _

“Is everything okay, dear?”

Dani snaps her head up to the voice, meeting warm brown eyes and a look of concern. She opens her mouth to speak, but she can’t get any words out, too focussed on getting oxygen in her system to worry about her vocal chords. 

“Tell you what. Come and help me water these plants. You can talk about what’s on your mind, or I can tell you about the pilgrimage of Christ. Your choice.”

Dani can’t help but smile at that, feeling the grip on her lungs loosen a notch. She nods, forcing herself to stand, waiting a second for the unsteadiness of her legs to fade. She feels a gentle hand on her arm, and tries to ground herself around it, shifting her mind to recognise that it was just the start of a panic attack, not the entire world caving in.

“Okay, then,” the woman continues, and Dani is so grateful for the lack of intrusion she could cry. “There’s a tap connected to the shed. Be a dear and fill these cans up, will you?”

Dani nods, picking up the two watering cans by the door and filling them. There’s something soothing in the action - an easy focus while her mind races. She briefly wonders if this is why Jamie enjoys it so much, but any thought of Jamie makes her feel sick with nerves, and the thought is pushed away as quickly as it arrives. She has a peek through the shed window, wondering if Jamie is hidden away from the world in there, but it’s empty. Jamie’s radio is up on a shelf, a few tools strewn about a large wooden desk. She tears her eyes away to go back to where the unknown woman is waiting for her by the flowerbeds, handing a watering can over.

“Thank you. Now, my instructions say to start here, with the yellow ones, and work along until we’ve done the whole installation, then down to the fountain.”

Dani perks up at this. “You’ve spoken to Jamie? Is she okay?”

The woman looks at her for a moment, realisation dawning. “Ah, you’re Dani.”

“Yes?”

“I’m Hannah Grose. I live with Jamie.”

_ Hannah _ . It all clicks. 

“Oh.” Dani can’t seem to muster up more than that.

“I don’t have much of a green thumb, but Jamie’s had a bit of bad news today, so it seemed best to give her a day off.”

“She doesn’t seem the type to want that much.”

Hannah chuckles to herself. “She isn’t. But that’s nothing a firm hand and a mug of tea can’t solve.”

Dani tucks that piece of information away. “So she’s okay? Just a bit, uh, under the weather?”

Hannah nods. “She will be. It isn’t my place to tell you what that news was, but if you’d like to come with me when we’re done here, you can ask her yourself. From the way she spoke about you yesterday, I’m sure she’d appreciate the company.”

A flush makes its way across her cheeks at the thought of Jamie talking about her, and the wave of relief is enough to make her wonder if she needs to sit down again.  _ It’s not me. _

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.”

Hannah pauses to give her a kind smile. “I’ve known Jamie a long time. Since she started here, as a student, I mean. I work with St Catherine’s College, my alma mater, but I mentor at some of the other Colleges, if the situation calls for it. Jamie was one of those that needed a bit of grounding when she arrived. It’s been a privilege to watch her grow, it truly has.”

“She mentioned you were in theology? What does that have to do with linguistics?” Dani wonders aloud. Hannah mentoring Jamie on two incompatible subjects doesn’t make sense to her. But then, she supposes, none of Jamie’s life that she knows about so far makes sense.

“I wasn’t a tutor. She needed a bit of personal support. I won’t go into the details - it’s another thing for her to tell you when she wants to, not me. But she was a very different person six years ago, and one without any kind of consistency. My job was to provide that.”

Dani nods, mulling over Hannah’s words. Whatever state Jamie arrived in, she’s glad to know that Hannah had been there for her - there’s something about the older woman that’s innately calming, she can feel that already after just half an hour, and she understands instinctively that Hannah would have been the best person to ask. 

She considers pressing further, but Hannah’s right - Jamie’s past is for Jamie to share with her as and when she wants to, not for Dani to try and draw out of somebody else, no matter the size of her curiosity. She pauses for a second, then looks at Hannah, remembering her earlier offer. “So. About Jesus’ pilgrimage?”

Hannah’s smile widens as she realises Dani is deadly serious. “Well,” she begins, “our story begins in Nazareth-“

*

The rest of the day passes companionably - Hannah is easy to talk to, and Dani reckons she knows more about Christianity than half of her Iowa church combined. Religion has never exactly been her calling, but the way Hannah speaks of it resonates with her - for Hannah, it’s less about preaching and morals. It’s a spiritual guide.  _ The thing to pay attention to, _ Hannah had said, back at the beginning of the retelling,  _ is the people. The setting, the items, they’re long gone. But people don’t change, not that much. And that’s where the true teachings lie. _

It strikes a chord in Dani. Something about Cambridge has her oddly reflective of her predecessors - how many other scholars had escaped here, finding solace in education? Who else had turned their life upside down, pinning their future on stone pillars and these communities embedded in the Colleges? She’s far from the only one to come to the city hoping to start anew. She doubts she’s the only one who came here running, either.

“I’ve got to stop by the library on the way back. It’ll only take a few minutes, if you don’t mind?”

Dani shakes herself out of her thoughts, nodding. Seeing Jamie is beginning to make her a little nervous again, and the distraction of a new setting sounds like a welcome diversion. 

St. Catherine’s College looks a bit like a gated community from the outside - it’s one of the smaller Colleges, and one Dani hadn’t really paid attention to when she’d been researching. It lacks the imposition that Clare and King’s have, feeling somewhat dwarfed by the larger colleges on the street, but Dani can sense the community atmosphere as soon as Hannah leads them in. It’s picturesque, bushes growing tall by the gates and streetlights along the path, and Dani thinks it must look beautiful in the evening.

The Shakeshaft Library is one of two at St. Catherine’s, upstairs in one of the buildings on the left of the main quad. Hannah points out notable places as they go - the chapel, the entrance to Sherlock Court, and Dani is struck by how easily Hannah fits in the space. Dani still feels small at Clare, swallowed by the grandiose hallways, but Hannah sweeps through with ease and authority, as if she’s been there all her life, as much a part of the College as the brickwork itself. The library is small, compact, and Hannah drifts over to the Religion & Theology section, consulting a small piece of paper as she does. Dani finds herself drawn to the window, looking out over the College, watching students going from building to building, the high walls of King’s College peeking over the top in the distance.

Something that surprises Dani every time is how close-knit the College communities feel. St. Catherine’s is welcoming, warm, but she doesn’t belong here. Selwyn is pretty, she likes it for her tutorials, but she can’t imagine living there. Clare feels so second-nature to her now, even after such a short time. It’s familiar, easy, all the things she’d hoped for back when she’d sent her application off, and Dani wonders if she’d have that same feeling with any of the Colleges had she ended up there. She honestly doesn’t know that she would.

The sun is beginning to set, and Hannah, having checked three leather-bound books out, taps Dani lightly on the shoulder, a silent indication that she’s ready to go. Dani follows her back down the steps and out through the College, falling into place next to her in the evening light as they make their way to Thompson’s Lane. 

Hannah takes them to a small, sweet townhouse, tall but narrow, shutting the gate behind them and taking a step ahead of Dani to unlock the front door. Dani is struck by just how like all of the respective inhabitants the interior is - three coats hang neatly in the hallway, a soft rug lines the floor, and Dani can see into the kitchen, all soft green woodwork and numerous cooking utensils lining the walls. There are plants  _ everywhere _ , not overwhelming the space, but gently supporting it. Jamie has even fixed some to hang from the hallway ceiling.

Hannah interrupts her thoughts, gesturing gently to the staircase as Dani removes her shoes. “Her room is on the top floor, just follow the stairs. I should be getting to the restaurant. Owen and myself will be back around midnight.”

Dani nods, thanking her and heading up the stairs, stopping in front of Jamie’s door. Those earlier doubts start fighting their way in, but this time, she wills them down, thinking about brown curls and band t-shirts and begging herself to keep it together.

She raises her hand, takes a breath, and knocks.

*

“Hannah, you know I love you, but I really can’t stomach any more tea today.”

Dani hesitantly pushes the door open, taking a step into the room. “It’s not Hannah. Hey.”

Jamie is curled up in bed, green-patterned duvet bunched up around her legs. A box of tissues is on the nightstand next to her, with a few used ones crumpled up, and a discarded paperback left face-down underneath them all. The room itself is breathtaking - huge bay windows let the best of the daylight in, a tall bookshelf with almost as many plants as it has books towers in the far corner, a stack of records propped against it, though Dani can’t see a record player anywhere. An armchair sits next to the bookshelf, and Dani doesn’t need to try hard to picture Jamie settled there for the night, reading a paperback in the light of the tall lamp in the corner. More plants fill the space, as Dani had expected, in every corner of the room and practically every surface. But there’s a calmness in the chaos of green - leaves are  _ everywhere _ , but like the hallway downstairs, they don’t overwhelm the room. Dani absently wonders if Jamie has ever had a background in interior design - the way she makes the plants seem as supportive as the wooden beams running up the walls is genuinely impressive.

The woman in question has shifted at Dani’s voice, forcing herself to sit up. Jamie’s eyes are red-rimmed, her bottom lip swollen, and Dani can see that it’s been chewed to pieces, a small split to one side where Jamie’s teeth have worried at it. Jamie’s hair is wild, and for the first time, she looks lost, swallowed up in an oversized Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt, legs bare and half-hidden by the duvet. “Dani,” she swallows. “Hey.”

Dani takes this as an invitation to step further in, quietly shutting the door behind her and moving into the space. “I looked for you today,” she begins gently. “Hannah said I could drop by.”

Jamie half-smiles at her, moving her legs to make room for Dani to sit down on the end of the bed. Dani’s left leg is tickled by what she thinks is a fern on the floor, and it makes her smile, how even Jamie’s room itself seems to be embracing her. She shifts, turning to face Jamie, who looks equal parts embarrassed and pleased to see her. 

“You don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to,” Dani presses on. “But you should, I think. I mean, I want to help.”

Jamie sighs, letting out a deep breath. “It’s not a pretty tale, Poppins. I don’t want it to change anything.”

Dani breaks the barrier between them, leaning forward to place a hand on Jamie’s left leg, letting her thumb rub what she hopes is a soothing pattern into her skin. “It won’t. Jamie, I ran out one night on everyone I’ve ever known without so much as a forwarding address. I’m probably not the best person to look to for dealing with things either.”

Another sigh. “Alright. Buckle in, Poppins.”

*

Jamie talks for hours, filling Dani in on Dennis and Louise, how Jamie herself had ended up the caretaker at eight years old, how the accident with Mikey led to the foster homes and the lack of contact with anyone from the life she remembered. Jamie tells her of prison, of how she got thrown in juvenile detention for breaking and entering, trying to find jewellery to sell to improve her chances of getting out of the foster system. How she’d started gardening inside, how she’d found a book on linguistics in the library and read it cover to cover, developing her ideas further. How the librarian had taken pity on her, slipped her workbooks and further reading. How a volume of Sappho’s poetry translations had led her to language evolution.

“It was magical. How all these words from thousands of years ago were accessible to us. How we’d learned to look at them in the right way. But it also made me sad to see how much we hadn’t managed to translate. This woman who lived and loved and  _ wrote _ , just like we do now, and we haven’t done her the justice of knowing everything she had to say, not yet.”

Jamie had applied to Cambridge under the guidance of the librarian, who had written her references and helped her with her appeal. Jamie had left the detention centre at seventeen, started at Cambridge eight months later, leaving her final foster home in the dust and forging a new life at Trinity. The adjustment had been difficult - the customs of Cambridge felt stifling, and Jamie had been unable to settle into life with her peers, all of whom came from high-class backgrounds, glancing at her secondhand wardrobe and making no effort to bother to get to know her. “That’s when Hannah got involved,” Jamie says, picking at the duvet and not meeting Dani’s eyes. “Didn’t see the point, at first. Hated religion, didn’t want anybody knowing my business. But I started talking, just to avoid having to hear about one of the fucking disciples again. After a month, realised I was sleeping through the night. Hannah’s not a therapist, but, well. She was the right person to talk to.”

Dani hummed her agreement, not wanting to interrupt and break Jamie’s stride. Jamie continued on, explaining how Hannah had gotten her a weekend job with the Trinity College gardeners, a way to help her in a familiar environment. The continuity had been important to help her settle, and she’d soon been scouted by groundskeepers at other Colleges, helping out at Clare and Gonville & Caius every so often.

Her degree had been difficult - Jamie was naturally intelligent, and interested in her subject, but would have been far more suited to a research-based course than a taught one. A resistance to authority and a determination to do things her way had made her a difficult student - “I was lucky to graduate,” Jamie says grimly. “Killed the love I had for language. So, when Clare had an opening for a gardener, I ran for it. Kept hold of the one thing I still enjoyed. Didn’t even get interviewed - just had the groundskeeper ask when I could start, and that was that. Missed graduation because I was too busy planting roses.”

Dani smiles at this, Jamie’s comment days ago about  _ studying here almost killed me _ finally making sense. “Thank you for telling me,” she says quietly. Jamie looks alarmed as Dani stands, turning as if to go, but Dani simply walks to the other side of the bed, climbing on until she’s side-by-side with Jamie, reaching for her hand. “Hannah mentioned you had some bad news?”

Jamie squeezes Dani’s hand appreciatively. “Got the call last night. Mikey got caught stealing some rich woman’s bag. Dunno how they knew to call me, I haven’t spoken to him in years. Still feels shit, though. He was always meant to be better than me.”

Her voice cracks on the last sentence, and Dani shuffles closer, looping an arm around Jamie’s shoulders and encouraging the smaller woman to lean into her. She presses a kiss to brown curls, waits for Jamie to relax into her before asking further. “Where is he now?”

“Glasgow. He’s eighteen now, I think. So they’ll treat him like an adult. Could be in there months, if it goes against him. Just feel responsible.”

“Stop that,” Dani says, surprised at the firmness in her own voice. “Jamie, I mean it. Don’t blame yourself. He probably doesn’t even know about your arrest - this isn’t a copycat thing. You said yourself that foster care wasn’t the best start you could have been given. And look what you’ve made of yourself, despite that? Who says he can’t do the same?”

Jamie sniffs, leaning her head on Dani’s shoulder. “I guess. He was just always such a good kid, you know? Just scared all the time. I don’t know what to do.”

“Jamie,” Dani starts, trying to choose her words carefully. “I know you love him, but he isn’t your responsibility, not anymore. I know it’s hard, but you have to trust that his foster family know what they’re doing. They knew how to contact you, right? Maybe they know how to put you in touch with him?”

She feels Jamie nod. “I guess. They sounded like good people, better than any of mine were. I just don’t know what I’d say to him.”

Dani doesn’t have an answer to that. “One day at a time. Take the week, get yourself sorted. We’ll call that number back on Monday, and we’ll go from there, okay? Both of us, if you want that.”

“I do. Thanks.”

Jamie leans away from her, sitting up and raising a hand to gently brush blonde hair out of Dani’s face. There’s a reverence in the act, the look in Jamie’s watery eyes so intense that Dani has to break contact, looking away and around the room, before settling on Jamie’s mouth. Without thinking, she reaches a hand up to run her thumb over the split in her bottom lip, and Jamie’s breath hitches as she does. Dani lets her hand fall back down, leaning in, resting her forehead against Jamie’s, her eyes fluttering shut.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

And Jamie’s lips are on hers, Jamie’s hand is in her hair, bringing her closer, and  _ oh _ , Dani thinks,  _ this is what everyone talks about. _

Every cliché she’s ever heard finally makes sense. Fire, fireworks, completion, butterflies, everything in the proverbial book sears through her as Jamie’s tongue encourages her to deepen the kiss, Jamie’s hands moving to her hips as she straddles the gardener, blonde hair curtaining them both. Dani can hardly breathe, but she doesn’t care. She’d die like this, if she could, with nothing but Jamie surrounding her, heightening her every sense.

It could be seconds, it could be hours, Dani doesn’t know or care. It’s only Jamie’s knee grinding up and into her that causes her to break away, a jolt of panic and arousal shooting through her in equal measures. She gasps, eyes still closed, feeling Jamie’s hands make their way to her waist, then up to the sides of her breasts. She stops, hands over Jamie’s, the sensation too much to deal with. Jamie understands, moving her hands back down, leaning in to kiss Dani senseless instead.

“Sorry,” Dani mumbles between kisses, “bit new to this.”

Jamie doesn’t let up. “It’s fine, Dani, we don’t have to go any further. Reckon this is enough for me.”

Dani just grins, pulling Jamie impossibly closer. “It’s enough for me too.”

*

She wakes in the dark, still in her clothes, Jamie’s grip on her so fierce that she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

They’re a tangle of limbs, and Dani can’t see where she ends and Jamie begins. Her hair feels messy, her lips still swollen, and  _ God _ , this is what it feels like to be alive. She stirs ever so slightly, feels Jamie move next to her, the clock on the wall reading half past one in the morning, illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the windows. They’d lain there for hours, kissing and talking and  _ being _ , and Dani doesn’t even remember falling asleep.

“What time is it?” Jamie says softly, not opening her eyes. Dani tells her, and Jamie shifts, letting Dani go and shuffling upright. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you.”

Dani just smiles, leaning in to kiss her, because she can  _ do that now _ , whenever she wants, for any reason or no reason. “I don’t mind. Don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

“Do you want something to sleep in?”

“Uh-,” Dani doesn’t want to impose, knows Jamie has had a tough day of it, and the last thing she wants is to overstay her welcome. 

“Nothing has to happen, Dani. And if you want to go home, that’s okay too. But I’d like you to stay, if you want to.”

Jamie is so considerate and so painfully  _ earnest _ , all messy hair and sleepy eyes and Dani’s heart melts. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll stay. If you don’t mind, that is, I don’t want to be any kind of problem,” Dani’s train of thought is stopped by Jamie gently pressing a finger to her lips. 

“Poppins, you’re fine. I want you here. One sec,” Jamie assures her, leaning over to flick the lamp on before heading over to a chest of drawers and pulling out a familiar  _ Blondie _ t-shirt and cotton shorts, tossing them over to Dani. “I can, uh,” Jamie gestures covering her eyes, but Dani shakes her head. 

“No, I, uh, I want you to see me. Please.”

Dani feels herself shaking as she unbuttons her blouse, Jamie’s eyes raking over her as she does. She’s never felt wanted like this before - Eddie had been enthusiastic, but the lack of her own feelings had made everything feel so  _ wrong _ . With Jamie, though, watching her every move with her mouth slightly open, Dani feels that same lust that she feels for Jamie mirrored back at her. Her shirt goes first, then her jeans, folded neatly and placed on the armchair, as she stands tall in just her underwear. Dani realises with surprise that she’s actually enjoying herself.

She feels comfortable, here with Jamie. Like Jamie would look away at any second she asked her to, like she could put her clothes right back on and march home and Jamie would still greet her with enthusiasm the next time they saw each other. She has freedom in this whole exchange, a newfangled concept to her. One she can’t wait to explore further.

“Poppins, I could look at you forever, but you’re  _ killing _ me here.”

Dani grins, laughs delightedly as she shoots Jamie a look that she knows is positively sinful, a look Jamie replies to by throwing a cushion at her good-naturedly, groaning. “I swear, Dani. We’re not doing a thing until you want to, but when you do, I’m gonna make you see all the stars in the galaxy.”

Dani finally takes pity on her, puts on the  _ Blondie _ shirt and unclasps her bra under it, drags the shorts up her legs and half-crawls across the bed back to Jamie. “Promises, promises,” she says lowly, drawing Jamie into a deep kiss as she settles against her, feeling an arm across her waist, drawing her closer. 

“Promises indeed,” Jamie murmurs against her lips.

Her dreams that night are  _ far _ from innocent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i study american politics and culture, but man, linguistics is one of the loves of my life, and everything jamie said about sappho is everything i feel about her too. I hope i adapted jamie’s story in the right way, feedback always appreciated.


	5. be my girlfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just want to say how much i adore reading all your comments - it's really motivating me to keep writing, and every single one makes me do a happy little dance, so thank you all so much.
> 
> i've started planning the next au already. got about a chapter and a half left of this one to write and then it begins, so look out for it hopefully in the next week or so!

It’s taken only four weeks for her entire life to turn inside out.

Dani is celebrating her first month in Cambridge on Wednesday, and she can’t _wait._ Her plan is simple: drag Jamie along to every tourist trap she can think of, get some cheesy pictures of the two of them, and get some new clothes.

She can’t afford the third one, not really, but her wardrobe is driving her insane. Every single item has a memory pinned to it, was bought for her by Eddie or worn on some insufferable date with him. Dani’s growing more confident in herself by the day, has no great desire to leave her lilac jumpers behind, but she still has some money saved from her bursary, just enough for a couple of sets that don’t send her reeling back to the past.

But there’ll be time enough for that later. For now, she idly wanders along the river, killing time until Jamie finishes at Clare. There’s a paperback in her back pocket, a copy of Agatha Christie’s _And Then There Were None_ , tattered and dog-eared from years of rereading. Viola had noticed it in her bag during their supervision earlier that day, recommending Wilkie Collins’ _The Moonstone_ as Dani’s next read. Her bookshelf is very slowly beginning to fill up, growing from a collection of seven to almost a dozen novels, and she likes to think that by the end of her time at Clare it’ll be full of books of all genres and sizes. She’s already made a mental note to find out Jamie’s favourite book - it can keep her newly-bought volume of Sappho’s translated fragments company.

She finds herself in town, walking idly past Corpus Christi College and approaching the market. It’s bustling with people, as ever, the Monday rush hour ushering a sweep of life through it. Dani prefers the quieter hours, but it’s nice to see it as a hub of activity. She smiles at the bookseller, an elderly woman with waist-length silver hair and kind eyes, casts her eyes over the array of novels placed in formation on the stall. There’s a candle-maker on the next stall down, a greengrocer across, and Dani takes her time admiring everything on offer. Instead of going through the market, opening herself up to more temptations, she takes a left turn down a small alley, weaving through tourists and glancing wistfully at the small antique bookshop. _Next time_ , she promises herself, as the alley widens out onto King’s Parade, the looming walls of King’s College in front of her. Her watch reads quarter past five, giving her a solid fifteen minutes before Jamie is done.

She takes a right turn up King’s Parade, heading to the café opposite Senate House, grabbing two hot chocolates and a large cookie to share. The tourists melt away as she turns down the path to Clare’s main entrance, smiling at a girl she recognises from an earlier lecture as she goes. Bicycles line the walls, the gates shine proudly in the sunset, and Dani takes a second to enjoy the sheer stereotype of the scene in front of her, greeting the man in the Porter’s Lodge as she flashes her student card on her way through.

The blossom by the entrance to Old Quad is beginning to lose its blooms, the early October chill taking hold. A few wispy pieces land in Dani’s hair as the wind blows through, though with two drinks in her hand, there’s not a lot she can do about it, choosing instead to take it as a greeting from the College as she makes her way through. 

Opening the gate to the Fellows’ Garden takes a bit of skill with her hands full, but seeing Jamie’s beaming smile as she locks up the shed makes it more than worth it. Jamie saunters over to her, hair tied back, and greets Dani with a kiss and a fond _hello, you._ Dani gives her one of the hot chocolates, resting her now-free hand on Jamie’s arm as she tugs her towards the bench. 

“So, uh, I have a question.”

Jamie shifts until she’s pressed into Dani’s side, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wednesday is a month since I got here. I want to, I don’t know, do some of the fun things. With you.”

Jamie moves a hand to Dani’s face, sweeping her hair back. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’m working until five, but-“

“That’s the thing,” Dani cuts in, unsure how her next words will fare. “I asked Hannah if she was free, and she said she can cover you in the afternoon. If you want, that is. I really won’t mind if you don’t want her to.”

“I mean, yeah, usually I can’t say I love being away from this place.” Dani’s heart sinks. “But, Poppins, some things are worth it. Wednesday is special to you, yeah? So if you want me there, I’m there. I’ll speak with Hannah tonight, but how about I pick you up at one? Show you the sights the tourists like.”

Dani grins at her, hope taking hold in her chest and curling around her heart. “It’ll have to be half one, I’ve got a seminar at twelve. But I’m sure I can make that half an hour up to you.”

“Being with you is enough reward,” Jamie says quietly, pressing a kiss to Dani’s temple. 

*

It’s frightening how difficult a day without Jamie is to her now. Considering it’s been roughly a fortnight since Jamie came into her life, Tuesday shouldn’t have been anywhere _near_ as strange as it had been. But the thought of Wednesday keeps Dani going, and when the day arrives, she wakes with a fizz of excitement already in her stomach, half-jumping out of bed in an effort to make the day go faster.

The birds seem to sing extra loudly as she makes her way to Sidgwick, a spring in her step as she makes her way down the leaf-covered pavement. Her seminar passes quickly and uneventfully, a few jotted notes on adapting crime novels for young children added to her notebook, and Dani all but throws her satchel down when she gets home, whizzing into the bathroom to throw some mascara on and fix her hair. Jamie is, as ever, right on time, and she’s not empty-handed, following Dani back up the stairs to the flat.

In her hands is a small cactus with a bow tied around the pot, a tag hanging from it. Jamie offers it to Dani - “just a little something, to celebrate” - who accepts it delightedly, abandoning the bag she was packing and taking the cactus in her hands, moving it to the desk and flipping the tag over to read it.

_Dear Poppins,_

_Happy one-month-of-freedom._

_Thought I’d get you something I know you couldn’t kill if you tried._

_Love,_

_Jamie x_

“Oh, Jamie,” she says, turning around to see the bashful look on the other woman’s face. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Figured you could use a bit of green,” Jamie says, letting Dani draw her into a deep kiss, arms winding around her waist. Dani’s on top of the world already - the day already feels monumental, and it’s barely started.

“Right, come on you,” Jamie says, breaking their kiss somewhat reluctantly. “We’ve got a vague timetable to stick to.” 

Dani throws her camera and a couple of rolls of film into her bag, casting a last look around the flat to make sure she’s got everything before locking the door behind them, following Jamie down the stairs and out into the city. Jamie leads them up towards the river, down some stone steps at the side and passing a small café, stopping in front of a painted sign. _Punts for hire_ , it says. Dani is about to ask, but Jamie is already talking with a man on the decking, dropping a couple of coins into his hand and beckoning Dani over.

She’s never been in a boat before, and it must show, from the way Jamie reaches for her hand. “Trust me?” Jamie asks, waiting for Dani’s nod before leading them any further. 

The punt wobbles dangerously as they step on, but Dani grips Jamie’s hand, letting the other woman steady her to one of the wooden seats. She expects Jamie to join her, frowning when their hands separate, watching Jamie sling her bag down into the punt and taking what looks like a massive stick from the owner, stepping onto a wooden platform. Jamie drops the stick into the river - Dani notes how mercifully shallow it is, breathing out at the realisation that she’s not likely to drown any time soon - and pushes, setting them in motion. 

“Hey, Poppins, there’s a couple of bottles of hooch in my bag, if you want one. Bottle opener on the key ring.”

Day drinking alcopops while floating down the river is such a delightfully Jamie thing to start the day with. Dani waits a few beats, getting her balance properly, before looking in Jamie’s bag, grabbing the two bottles and opening them. She passes one up to Jamie, who smiles at her as she takes a long sip, pushing them further along. It isn’t long before they hit the Colleges, floating past St. Catherine’s, King’s, Clare, Trinity Hall, Trinity, St. John’s, and Magdalene. Dani is impressed with herself for recognising them all, reeling the list off to Jamie, who raises her hooch with her free hand in congratulations. Jamie points out the Bridge of Sighs as they pass under it, tells Dani the stories of students hoisting cars under it as a prank back in the ‘60s, swearing blind that both incidents genuinely happened. Dani pulls out her camera as they pass under it, managing to get a shot of Jamie in front of the Bridge as they emerge on the other side, grinning down at her with the sun lighting up her face. Dani already knows she’s keeping that photograph.

They get off at Park Parade by Jesus Green, Dani falling into Jamie as her balance fails her back on land, both of them laughing. Dani gets another tourist in the queue to get a photo of them both, grinning and pointing to the _Punts for hire_ sign identical to the one at the beginning of the river. Jamie leads them to a café terrace, citing her need for food as a reason to pause, and they share a bowl of chips bigger than Dani’s head. The café is sweet, red and white parasols above them and a family-run atmosphere, and Dani realises they’re only down the road from Jamie’s house. She snaps another picture of Jamie, mouth full of potato and smiling with chipmunk cheeks at her. Another one to save, Dani thinks, wondering where she can get the photos developed.

After lunch Jamie leads her, surprisingly, to a bus stop, paying the fare for both of them and taking Dani upstairs, bagging the front seats before anybody else can. She’s tight-lipped about where they’re going, wanting to keep the surprise as long as possible, and Dani truly can’t believe how lucky she got to cross paths with Jamie.

Eventually their destination is revealed as the Fitzwilliam Museum, a huge neoclassical-style building with white pillars along the front, reminding Dani of a Greek forum. As a student, and with Jamie as a University employee, their access to all exhibitions is free, and they take their time wandering around, starting at the top floor and working their way down. Dani is captivated by the collections of artworks, taking in the marble statues of the top floor, the Victorian embroidery samples on the one below, listening to Jamie talk about the floral patterns on historic Chinese pots and how to identify them. It’s breathtaking.

Jamie is building to something, though. Dani can see it in the way she holds the map a little too tight, checks the name of every room they pass through. She considers asking, but knows that Jamie won’t tell her anything even a second before she can, and contents herself with looking at the magnificent artwork displays.

Her wondering is answered when they get to the final room, a temporary exhibition at the Fitzwilliam, and Dani stops dead in her tracks.

It’s a series of commissioned artworks based on the love letters of Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West.

They’d had a conversation about it in the very early days of knowing each other. Dani had talked for almost an hour about the intricacy of their story, about specific letters and excerpts that she thought about frequently, how raw and real their relationship felt to her, years after those letters were written and sent. Jamie had listened attentively - more attentively than Dani had realised, apparently - and she feels tears gently pricking at her eyes as she takes it in, feeling for Jamie’s hand and squeezing it tightly in gratitude. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

Jamie leans into her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re the first to say it, Poppins,” she murmurs softly, leading Dani into the exhibit and watching as she takes in the art.

The pieces on display are beautiful, contemporary styles from all around the globe brought together to tell the story of the authors. Dani is drawn to the outline of two women hugging, done in bold strokes of red, yellow, and blue. The figures are naked, embracing each other tightly, the back of one visible and only the hint of the front of the other, so tightly are they pressed together. The detail is minimal, barely a facial feature or sweep of hair in sight, but Dani stands in front of it for much longer than any of the others, committing each detail to memory. There’s a fierceness in the embrace, a passion rolling off of the canvas that sets something aflame in her. The painting shows desire, in its purest form. She loves it.

They take their time around the exhibition, ending up in the gift shop where Dani buys a small print of her favourite painting, already knowing it’s going in the window at her flat. She treats herself to a thick woollen scarf - not quite the wardrobe renovation she’d had in mind for the day, but it’s a start. Jamie picks herself up a deck of cards decorated with various Monet paintings, and Dani is at least eighty percent sure that the _Water lilies_ painting on the box is what sealed the deal. They walk back into town, hand in hand, and Dani suggests picking up fish and chips - another English custom she has yet to partake in - and going back to hers. Jamie readily agrees, already hungry again, and it isn’t long before they’re bustling through the streets towards Newnham Road, food stashed in Dani’s jacket to stop the heat escaping. 

*

An hour later they’re lying side-by-side on Dani’s bed, full to bursting and swapping funny childhood anecdotes. The gallery print is nestled in the window, Jamie’s hand is playing with her own, the birds are singing as the sunset begins outside, and Dani is in heaven. She’s halfway through a tale from her adolescence, something about accidentally beating chalk dust from the board erasers all over the headmistress at her old-fashioned middle school, when Jamie turns to face her, dropping her hand and looking at her with such earnest that Dani stops mid-sentence.

“Be my girlfriend.”

Dani’s eyes widen, taking in Jamie’s expression, the way she’s worrying at her bottom lip again, a telltale sign of nerves. She’s _nervous_ , Dani realises. Surely Jamie must realise that Dani would jump into traffic if she asked her to, that she’d do anything she asked in the blink of an eye, give her anything and everything she could ever want without hesitation. 

And Jamie wants _her._

For the second time that day, Dani feels tears pricking at her eyes, a wave of emotion unlike anything she’s felt before washing over her as she nods, furious, drawing Jamie close and sealing the deal with a deep kiss.

“Is that a yes?” 

Dani laughs, letting out a _yes, you idiot_ , leaning back in to kiss Jamie - her _girlfriend_ \- again. She can feel the grin matching her own, teeth clashing messily as both women try to contain themselves, their laughter turning heated in the cool autumn evening. Jamie’s hands are on Dani’s waist, slipping gently underneath her shirt and up her back, and the skin-on-skin contact has Dani gasping. 

“Shit, sorry, we can stop, I-“

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Dani practically growls, taking Jamie by surprise as she leans forward, kissing the shorter woman like her whole life depends on it. Jamie’s hands are roaming again, and Dani is tugging at the bottom of Jamie’s t-shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to yank it over her head and toss it to the side. Jamie’s hands make quick work of unbuttoning Dani’s blouse, and it soon joins the t-shirt on the floor. Dani’s hands are shaking as she fiddles with Jamie’s jeans, wrenching them off and earning a _steady on, Poppins_ , as she does, throwing them in the heap and moving to tear her own off, lust and need and heady desire flooding through her veins. They separate for a moment, breathing heavily as they take each other in, Dani’s eyes roaming on Jamie’s legs, then up to the smooth expanse of her stomach.

Jamie unclasps her bra and allows Dani to drag it down her arms, throwing it to the side and reaching out an experimental hand to cup Jamie’s left breast, running a thumb over her nipple and enjoying the sharp intake of breath from Jamie as she does so. Time stands still for a moment as Dani takes in the sensation, and then Jamie is moving again, reaching over and unclasping Dani’s bra, pressing hot kisses to her neck and jaw as she lowers Dani onto the mattress. Jamie’s hands are on her breasts, followed quickly by her mouth, tongue swirling around one nipple while a thumb rubs over the other. Dani is audibly whimpering, grinding her hips down into the mattress in an effort to push herself further into Jamie. Her efforts are rewarded as Jamie moves lower, nipping at the smooth skin of her stomach and licking away the dull pain as she does, hooking her thumbs around Dani’s underwear and slowly dragging it down her legs, tossing it to the side. 

Dani feels like she’s on _fire._

Jamie looks up, checking in, waiting for Dani’s enthusiastic nod of consent before she gently parts her legs. Dani can _feel_ how wet she is, knows Jamie can tell instantly as she feels gentle kisses on her inner thighs, the occasional nip of sharp teeth as Jamie edges higher towards where Dani needs her most. Dani’s practically ready to scream, letting out a whine as Jamie’s mouth pulls away for a split second, before she feels her tongue gently part her folds, licking up to her clit and sucking gently.

 _Fucking hell,_ Dani thinks. _I’m going to die._

Jamie is _divine_ , knowing exactly where and how to apply pressure, swirling her tongue around Dani’s clit and paying attention to what makes her lover’s breath hitch, what causes a low moan or a breathy sigh. Dani feels Jamie’s arm shift, and then a finger inside her, curling on every gentle thrust, and _fuck_ , Jamie had meant it when she said Dani would be seeing stars. A second finger joins the first, increasing the speed and pressure while not letting up on her clit for a second. Dani feels the wave building embarrassingly quickly, trying to suppress it for fear of ending things to soon, but Jamie’s gentle whisper of _let go, baby, I’ve got you,_ sends her over the edge, shouting out her pleasure as Jamie fucks her through her orgasm, keeping the pressure until Dani has to push her away, too sensitive. Jamie crawls back up, kissing her way up Dani’s stomach and chest before capturing her lips, letting Dani taste herself on Jamie as she tries to catch her breath. “Holy shit,” she says, watching Jamie lick her own fingers clean in possibly the hottest display she’s ever dreamed of. “Holy _shit.”_

Jamie grins at her, brushing Dani’s hair off of her face. “Okay?” she asks, pressing a light kiss to Dani’s jawline as the blonde nods. 

“Amazing,” Dani breathes, closing her eyes again as Jamie presses her lips to her neck. She lets herself lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of years of pent-up frustration and yearning, gathering her thoughts just enough to open her eyes again and start toying with the waistband of Jamie’s underwear. 

“Show me?”

Jamie grins delightedly, kissing her deeply. “Don’t have to ask twice, Poppins.”

Dani is _thrilled_ to find that that morning-after feeling doesn’t go away in the subsequent days.

*

“Merry Christmas, Poppins.”

Dani shifts to turn over, facing Jamie as she seeks out her girlfriend, pulling the duvet back up over them in the winter chill. Jamie presses a light kiss to her nose, eliciting a giggle, as she tucks her head under Jamie’s chin, wanting to stretch their sleepy haven out just a little longer.

The past two months have been incredible. Jamie is everything Dani could have dreamed of - she’s attentive, affectionate, kind, and so, _so_ caring; she helps Dani with her University work, proofreads her essays and discusses her reading, helping Dani verbalize concepts she understands, but needs encouragement with. She’s taken to studying in the Fellows’ Garden, using the shed when the days turn colder, Jamie’s radio filling the air as they work side-by-side.

Watching the garden transform with the seasons gives her even more admiration for Jamie’s skills. She’d expected it to turn lifeless, matching the grey of the surroundings around them, but Jamie knows exactly how to keep it alive, swapping the bright summer flowers for Christmas roses, winter honeysuckle, snowdrops, all manner of festive colours lining the grass and sweeping down to the riverbank. The willow tree, despite losing its leaves, still stands tall and proud over the garden, and Dani had helped Jamie thread some Christmas lights through the branches, giving a soft golden glow in the evening. It’s just as beautiful as the summer blooms, and, Dani notes with pride, is still the envy of all the Colleges.

She’s spending Christmas at Thompson’s Lane - she must spend at least half of her spare time there anyway. Christmas has always been a somewhat painful time for Dani. Eddie had proposed on Christmas Day when they were eighteen, her mother had been drunk out of her mind by midday every year Dani could remember, usually ending in a tense dinner and a few insults being hurled around if Dani tried to help. She remembers one spectacularly bad one, where her gentle suggestion of a glass of water resulted in a plate being hurled across the room, and shakes the thought away. _Not this year._

They’d all attended Midnight Mass the previous night. Hannah had told Dani about the importance of the event, both from a personal and religious standpoint, talking about Christmastide, of how Hannah will be celebrating in various ways until the second day of February, the season culminating in Candlemas. Midnight Mass is the first of these events, and Dani is in awe of the service. King’s College Chapel is a spectacular place at any time of the year, but to see the candlelight, hear the choir, join in with the hymns surrounded by her friends is a truly magical experience. She’d kept her hymn sheet, pressing it between the pages of Toni Morrison’s _Song of Solomon_ , planning on pinning it above her desk as a reminder of her first holiday in Cambridge. Hannah’s devotion to her faith is beautiful, and it moves Dani greatly. She asks quietly about attending future services with her, and Hannah smiles, mentioning the upcoming service for Twelfth Night in the new year, and Dani confirms she’ll be there.

Christmas Day dawns bright, and by the time Dani and Jamie finally extract themselves from the covers, bounding downstairs in their pyjamas, the house is in full swing, Hannah and Owen bustling in the kitchen and the candles on the dining room table lit. Jamie nudges her, gesturing to the doorway where mistletoe hangs, and Dani rolls her eyes with a laugh, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. “Happy Christmas,” she says quietly as they separate, feeling Jamie’s thumb rubbing at her waist under her shirt. She’s just leaning back in when Owen pops his head out from the kitchen.

“If you’d be so kind as to let each other go for just a moment, Hannah could use a hand carrying things. Wouldn’t want her to trip and stub a pota- _toe._ ”

Jamie looks like she’s going to throw something at him. “I’m nominating Poppins. If that’s the wordplay we’re dealing with, I don’t think I should be around too many sharp objects,” she says, as Owen playfully narrows his eyes, beckoning Dani through to the kitchen. Jamie heads to the table, laying out Christmas crackers between waiting plates, as Dani carefully carries a tray of potato and parsnips through, setting it down in the middle. Hannah follows behind her with a tray of roasted vegetables, and Owen brings up the rear of the procession with the turkey, garnishing it with an extra spring of rosemary and taking a seat. Hannah politely asks to say Grace - as if there’s any chance her companions would deny her - and they clasp hands, bowing their heads respectfully as Hannah says a short prayer. Dani likes the balance that exists in the household - Hannah practices her faith freely and openly, inviting them all in, but there’s no requirement, just a gentle invitation should they choose to take it. Plus, considering the fact that the evening’s agenda seems to be shaping up to a pattern of wine and board games, Dani thinks they ought to observe _some_ level of tradition, before someone inevitably flips a Monopoly board on the birthday of Christ. 

Lunch is spectacular, as Dani knew it would be, and a celebratory atmosphere settles over the tables as they pull crackers, roll eyes at the terrible jokes inside and swap paper hats so that everybody has their favourite colour. Dani’s camera is with her, and she makes sure to get plenty of pictures, including a few with the self-timer to get all four of them in, promising to make copies when she finally gets round to developing them. Jamie steals a parsnip off her plate and squeezes her thigh under the table, Owen almost sets himself on fire as his paper crown falls dangerously near a candle, and Hannah watches over them all, smiling the whole time. Dani’s heart aches at the familial feeling of it all.

She helps Hannah clear the table, gently shaking her head as Jamie offers to do it instead. They wash up in companionable quiet, and Dani can faintly hear Owen and Jamie good-naturedly squabbling over whether it was too early to crack the bottle of Moët out. Hannah washes the dishes while she dries, and she finds herself talking. “I, uh, just wanted to say thank you. For all of it. Jamie, and me, and making me feel so welcome. Really,” the words stumble out somewhat awkwardly, but Hannah seems to understand just how fiercely she means them.

“You’re a part of us, now, Dani,” Hannah says gently. “I’ve known Jamie a long time. She’s a good soul, one of the best, certainly that I’ve come across. Anyone can see how happy you make her, how happy the two of you make each other. You really fit here.”

Dani gives her a watery smile, trying to fight down the wave of emotion at Hannah’s words. “I was thinking, as well,” she starts, “if I could come to the chapel with you, maybe even when there isn’t a holiday happening?”

Hannah nods. “If you’d like, you’re very welcome. The doors are always open, and the Clare chaplain is a good man should you find yourself there. I can usually be found at St. Catherine’s on Sunday, it’s a gentle service in the morning, so that might be a good place to begin?” 

Dani thinks for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that. Church back home was, uh, not a fun experience. My mother wasn’t really into it, you know? Made sure I went to avoid the scandal if I didn’t, I guess it was a small town thing. She didn’t really teach me any faith, just judgement.” 

“Well, I think it’s admirable that you’d like to reconcile. Just come along when you’re comfortable. You might find you want to come more often, or you might find you want to stop altogether. But that exploration is part of it all, just as important as the hymns and the prayers.”

Dani places the last dish back in the cupboard, mulling on Hannah’s words. The reassurance of choice is something she finds solace in - so much of her life had been born out of confinement, rigid expectations of the people in her life, and this newfound freedom to choose what she is and isn’t comfortable with is something she’ll never grow tired of. She thanks Hannah, heading back into the living room where Jamie is on the sofa. Jamie pats the space next to her as Dani enters, flipping Owen off as he makes a kissing sound from the armchair. Dani settles in against Jamie’s side, feeling a kiss against her temple as Jamie hands her a glass of champagne, muttering something hideously derogatory about the Queen as the three o’clock speech begins, and Dani snorts hard enough to feel bubbles in her nose.

*

“You _bastard,_ you _knew_ I’d land there next!”

Jamie throws down several bills of Monopoly money onto the board in front of Owen, who is delightfully tipsy and taking absolutely no prisoners. His hotel and houses on Mayfair and Park Lane are catching them all - Dani’s been out for two rounds now, sat on the floor with Jamie between her legs, feeling pleasantly hazy from several glasses of wine. She presses a kiss to Jamie’s shoulder blade, trying not to laugh at her girlfriends fury at having to cough up a large sum to Owen.

They all agreed to leave the presents until later in the evening, and Dani is putting all her energy into not second-guessing her gift for Jamie, focussing on the board and the warm body in front of her. She doesn’t have much longer to wait, as Hannah declares bankruptcy and Jamie follows soon after, leaving Owen to gloat, cheering at his victory. A few rounds of card games follow - Dani is surprisingly good at Spoons, only losing one game of about fifteen, and Jamie teaches them all how to play Cheat, which gets louder and louder as the evening goes by. Eventually, after a dramatic loss for Owen, who is currently holding about half of the entire deck in his hands, Hannah claps her hands and rises to go over to their Christmas tree, gathering the parcels underneath it and handing them out. Dani is surprised to see she has five, in a variety of sizes, giving Hannah a gentle thank you as she recieves them.

They go around the group, one at a time. Dani’s first present is from Owen and Hannah, and she’s touched to open it and find the complete _Chronicles of Narnia_ series. She’d lamented the set she’d left behind in Iowa several weeks back one night at the restaurant, and the gift means a lot to her. She hugs both Hannah and Owen in thanks, and turns to Jamie, who goes next. Hannah has given her a thick new pair of winter gardening gloves, and round they go. Hannah receives a necklace from Owen, a new fountain pen from Jamie, some assorted books and a jumper, Owen almost entirely kitchen tools and a pair of thick woollen socks. Jamie has been gifted some more gardening essentials, having said several times in the run-up to the day that they’ll be of far more use to her than anything else. Dani, of course, hadn’t listened, wanting to get her girlfriend something a little more special, and Jamie unwraps a framed picture of the two of them with the _Punts for hire_ sign, a couple of new neckerchiefs to tie her hair back with, and finally, a small painting of the Fellows’ Garden, done by Viola, who, Dani had found out, was quite the artist, and for a fair rate. Jamie is thrilled with them all, hugging Dani tight and kissing her cheek in thanks. 

Jamie has gifted her a daffodil necklace, her birth flower, which is already being worn proudly, a copy of Louisa May Alcott’s _Little Women_ , and a thick winter scarf - “for when you’re studying in that shed and pretending you’re not shivering.” They’re beautifully thoughtful gifts, and Dani thanks whoever is looking over her once again for bringing Jamie into her life. Her final present, smaller than the palm of her hand, is from all three of them, and upon opening it, Dani is speechless as she holds the small door key in her hand.

“You don’t have to use it, obviously. We just, well, we all thought that you’re here so much anyway. May as well be a proper part of it,” Jamie says, worrying at her lip as she always does when she’s nervous. Dani is overwhelmed by the sentiment behind it, looking up to meet the eyes of the three people she’s forging a life with. “Thank you,” she says, swallowing. “I love it, I really do.”

Jamie moves from the floor to join Dani on the sofa, slipping an arm around her waist and a hand on her stomach as Dani covers it with her own, squeezing it in gratitude. Owen flips the channel onto some quiz show as Hannah tops everyone’s wine glasses up, clearing the worst of the discarded wrapping paper and putting them all to shame as she goes, getting answer after answer correct as the rest of them fall behind. Owen beams at her with pride while Jamie good-naturedly sticks her tongue out, finally getting her own back on everyone with the Science and Nature section, and it occurs to Dani that they’d make a fantastic pub quiz team with their respective strengths. She suggests as much, and Owen nods his approval, mentioning the pub on Silver Street that does a quiz on New Year’s Eve. Dani smiles, declares it a done deal, and pretends not to hear Jamie’s groan of annoyance behind her. 

She’ll be paying for _that_ later.

(She can’t wait.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked the fluff and the stereotypes, and i’ve literally never written smut before so i’m sorry if it’s awful.
> 
> a few things: 1) i once stole an out-of-date laminated poster from that exact alleyway dani walks down after the market at the beginning, advertising a show called “abby from primeval made me gay”. four years later and it’s hanging proudly on display from a light in my flat. 2) i also technically have never been punting, but i have been drunk at midnight on one of the king’s college ones listening to a pirate porn podcast with a friend, so i think that counts. 10/10 highly recommend. 3) yes, the car things really happened! 4) i went to this exhibit at the fitzwilliam the morning before my interviews and it was fucking breathtaking, so i’m transplanting it here for you all to enjoy too.
> 
> as ever, your comments make my entire life worth it xox


	6. an inevitable explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst time. sorry. i haven’t seen anybody write a genuinely furious dani before and i’m a bit scared to give it a try, but there’s so many goddamn layers of emotion in this woman and i’m determined to wrench them all out by the end of this fic, so have fun.

Winter turns to spring, the flowers bloom again, and Dani feels herself blooming with them.

She spends more and more time at Thompson's Lane, sitting with Jamie in the garden, watching soaps with Hannah, even helping Owen pressure the other two into going to the weekly pub quiz at The Maypole Freehouse just around the corner. They're solidly middle of the pack almost every time, but Dani insists they're getting better, usually bribing Jamie on side with a glass of wine or a pint of whatever's going. She feels such a _part_ of things now, and she thanks the stars every day that her previous visions of a solitary life in Cambridge have been thoroughly torn apart.

Exam weeks come and go, and she feels decently confident about her performance. Jamie takes her out to celebrate on the Friday, after her final exam in Visual Texts, the one that she’s less than confident about. They go to _A Batter Place_ for dinner, and Dani is grateful for the familiarity, happy to have Hannah join them for a half hour before she retires upstairs. The atmosphere is light, jovial as ever, and Owen treats them to a free dessert again, rolling his eyes as Jamie tucks in enthusiastically enough to get chocolate on the end of her nose. They order champagne that neither of them can really afford, clink their glasses and cheer just a fraction too loud for the tone of the setting, and Dani looks at Jamie, tells her she loves her and _means it_ , means it so fiercely she thinks she’ll die if she doesn’t get the words out. Jamie grins impossibly wider, toasting the sentiment and dragging Dani upstairs shortly thereafter, whispering her own _I love you, too,_ in the sanctuary of her bedroom, pressing Dani down into the mattress and repeating the phrase a hundred times as Dani climbs higher and higher.

But the endless good can’t last.

The next week comes around, the impending results day starting to weigh on Dani’s mind. Viola wishes her luck in their supervision. Jamie is extra attentive, running her baths at Thompson’s Lane, getting Owen to cook for her when Dani worries. Sits with her at night, runs a hand through her hair, lets Dani vent out all the worries she can think of. Sometimes Jamie reads to her, plucks a paperback off the shelf and lets Dani settle into her, not stopping until she’s convinced Dani’s asleep. Wakes her gently, kisses her sleepily, lays down her life at Dani’s feet and lifts her up like Dani never dared dream anybody ever would. 

Dani kisses her goodbye on Saturday morning, wanting nothing more than to spend Jamie’s day off with her, but essays are calling, and Jamie has errands to run, little jobs that have been building up that have been sacrificed for Dani. So Dani heads home, a spring in her step, stopping in at Fitzbillies at the end of Thompson’s Lane to pick up a Chelsea bun that she’ll thank herself for when she’s been studying all day. She contemplates getting the bus, but decides to walk - it’s a pretty day, clear skies, and she hasn’t gone through town in a while. She weaves through the market stalls, alive with people as the clock approaches twelve, and Dani stops to grab a couple of fresh oranges, thanking the greengrocer and continuing on. 

She works well into the evening, deciding to leave her essay conclusion for Sunday, after she’s gotten her results and hopefully had a fresh wave of motivation. She opens the window, leans out, feeling like a Walt Disney character with her hair gently waving in the breeze. Lammas Land is busy with people on walks, couples having picnics, families with dogs throwing tennis balls. There’s a hum of life, the trees swaying gently as the wind teases at them, and Dani can see people in the river, playing some kind of game with a volleyball and shouting enthusiastically to each other. Part of her wants to go down and immerse herself in it, but she needs an early night. And besides, for Dani, just _knowing_ that life exists outside, for her to walk into at any point, is enough. 

*

Sunday morning dawns, and the vague throes of anxiety with it. She regrets not staying at Thompson’s Lane the previous night - at the time, she’d wanted to make sure Jamie finally got some sleep, but she’s selfishly wishing she had someone to hold onto right about now. Choking down a coffee, Dani pulls her clothes on, checking the time. Her results are available to collect at a quarter past, giving her a solid twenty minutes to head to Sidgwick and pace around the car park.

Dani must check her watch a hundred times on the way, and at least another hundred while she waits. The time ticks by painfully slowly - for all her anxiety, she just wants it done with now. Finally, _finally_ , the big hand moves to the three, and she inhales sharply, working her way through crowds of nervous students to her professor's office.

She gives her name to the waiting assistant, a stern-looking woman in her late thirties and glasses that pinch her nose, and is handed a white envelope on it. The envelope is addressed to Danielle Clayton, and Dani feels a slight wave of annoyance at the use of her full name. _No point being pedantic now_ , she thinks, moving out of the queue and across the hallway into the lecture theatre to open them. A few classmates she vaguely recognises surround her, and she takes another deep breath, tearing open the envelope and unfolding the paper within.

She stares down at the sheet, feeling the world start to spin.

She’s failed.

Two of three of her winter modules she’s flown through with flying colours, but her third - Visual Texts - is a flat 46%, pushing her just below a pass.

Dani has _never_ failed a class, not once in her entire life. A love of reading and a lot of anxiety had ensured that; she was a solid A student all through grade school, continued that into high school, passed her undergraduate two points down from the valedictorian. She’s a hard worker, a thorough researcher. Clearly that isn’t going to cut it anymore. 

Her lecture leader, a stern-looking man named Dominic, walks over to her. “A shame, Clayton. I thought you’d do better. Still, those other two are nothing to be ashamed of, so congratulations there.”

Dani nods, trying and failing to muster a convincing smile, before excusing herself and walking briskly out of the building. Sidgwick is busy, students swarming to collect their results, and she has to fight her way through the crowds, trying to ignore the walls closing in on her as she focuses on getting to fresh air, transcript still in one hand as she goes. She vaguely registers Perdita, Viola’s sister, as she goes, but she can’t stop, hoping that Perdita won’t take offence. They’ve only met once, so she thinks she’s safe, finally getting out of the building and almost tripping down the stairs in her haste to get away.

She doesn’t know where to go. Newnham is across the road, looking inviting in the sun, but Dani doesn’t want to be anywhere in the University right now. She wants to run, bury her head in the sand and pretend nothing has happened, even her homely flat feeling too closed-in. She paces in the car park for a minute, before her eyes settle on a pay phone just outside the gate, and before she can rationalise anything she’s marching over to it, dropping a few coins in and dialing the country code, unsure whether she’s praying for an answer, or for silence. 

“Hello?”

Dani takes a deep intake of breath.

“Hey, mom. It’s me.”

“Danielle? Danielle, what the _fuck_ do you think you’re playing at!”

“Mom, I-“

“Don’t you _dare_ interrupt me,” Karen Clayton, in all her tenacity, spits. “Get your ass home and you can beg for my forgiveness then.”

“Mom, I’m not coming home. I don’t want to. I explained everything in the letter I left Eddie. I just wanted to see if you were doing okay.” 

She hears a scoff down the phone, then silence, and wonders if she should take her chance and hang up, drown this bad decision in however much wine she’s got in the kitchen and call it a day. 

“Hey, Danielle.”

The voice on the other end is soft, sad, and undeniably Eddie. Dani wants to scream, shut her eyes and hit the phone against the side of the box, go back five minutes and tell herself not to pick it up. Too late now.

“Eddie. Hi. I didn’t realise you’d be there.”

The silence is possibly the most awkward moment of her life.

“Yeah, uh, Karen cooks for me sometimes. Invites me round, you know.”

Dani’s eyes roll. Her mom had always preferred Eddie to her, and apparently old habits die hard. “I see. Can you put her back on the phone please?”

“What, you’re not going to talk to me? You up and leave me, embarrass me in front of everyone we know, and won’t even tell me where you went?” Anger is creeping into his voice, she recognises the steely tone as he clearly tries to hold himself back.

“Why, so you can follow me? Force me to tell you everything I already have in person?” Dani shoots back, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I’ve been clear enough, Eddie. I’m studying again, I don’t want to be with you, and I’m somewhere I’m happier. Now can you _please_ put my mother on the phone.”

Eddie pauses. “You were never cruel, Danielle. Quiet, a bit cold sometimes, but never cruel. I don’t know where you are, what changed you, but this is the last time. You come home now and we forget this whole thing ever happened, we could be married by April-”

“Oh, _fuck_ _you_ , Eddie. This isn’t some rebellion, some moment where you’re going to tell me what I’ve given up and I’ll snap back to it. This is it, this is what I want and I’m happier here than I ever was in twelve years with you, and you know why. Put my mother back on the phone, or so help me,” Dani snarls, anger coursing through her. How _dare_ he. Standing in her mother’s house - _her_ house, as it had been for so many ideas, patronizing her, acting as if this is all some moment of madness instead of her final leap to freedom. How _dare_ he. She’s _furious._

“Is there someone else? Is that it?”

Dani takes a breath, steels herself, lets the rage building in her give way to a fresh wave of confidence. “Yeah, actually. There is. And she’s funny, and kind, and sweet, and I’m a hell of a lot happier with _her_ than I ever was in Iowa.”

“Danielle, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Karen is back on the phone, presumably having snatched it off Eddie, who, finally, has gone silent. “You’re shacked up with some _woman_ somewhere?”

Dani scoffs. “Yeah, that’s sort of what the ‘I’m gay’ part of that note meant, mom. I don’t want to talk about it. I just called to see how you are. ”

Karen laughs aggressively down the phone. “How I am? Not even how Edmund is, after what you did? Why bother, sweetheart-” the term of endearment is aggressive, malicious, “you haven’t said a word to us in months.”

“I failed a module today, mom, and I thought it might be nice to talk to you. Thought it might make me feel better.”

“Christ, of course you’re failing at this whole endeavour. People like _you_ practically deserve it.”

Of all the things Karen has said over the years, all the quips, the comments, the insults, this one stings. Dani is silent, letting the words sink in - she hadn’t exactly been expecting a jubilant celebration when she finally got in touch, but a part of her had really thought that the dramatic nature of her actions would finally have hammered home that she had been hurting, that she’d been scared, and unhappy enough to do something about it. Apparently not. She takes a breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whoever she is, she’s obviously leading you astray. Why you want to bother with all this in the first place, I don’t know, but maybe you should stop trying to forge some sinful life with some English _bitch_ , and come home where you belong. It’s not right, Danielle. And now you tell me you’re failing at the whole reason you _abandoned_ us all in the first place? It’s easy to see why. You always let us all down, Danielle. You finally had Eddie, finally I had a reason I could say I was proud that you were my daughter, and you fucked that up as well. I hope you’re-”

Dani slams the receiver down, hearing the long, drawn out beeping of the dial tone. She stands there for a moment, forehead resting against the wall, her fucked-up transcript still clutched in one hand. She balls it into a fist, crumpling the paper and hitting the wall, sighing angrily and trying to fight the tears back. She’s always been an angry crier, can’t get the emotion out any other way, but _fuck,_ she is _not_ going to let Karen Clayton get to her in a public phone box. 

She slams the door of it behind her so hard that the phone rattles off the receiver, not turning back to fix it. Her legs carry her down Newnham Road towards her flat, and she chucks her transcript in a bin as she goes, not wanting to keep it with her a second longer. She can see Jamie in the distance - _fuck_ , she forgot she was meeting her at Clare - but pretends she didn’t, hoping by some miracle Jamie picks up on her mood and leaves her alone, not looking back in her direction until she’s shut her flat door behind her. 

Dani slumps against it, trying to steady her breathing, knowing she’s got limited time before Jamie comes up the stairs and she has to face her decision. She feels like she’s running out of time, feels the ticking of the clock all around her, the pressure mounting until the tears flood in, inescapable.

A soft knock at the door. 

_Time’s up, Danielle._

She wants to take the coward’s way out, sit there in silence until Jamie gives up and leaves. Seriously considers it. But Jamie would only worry, and she can’t be responsible for that, not on top of everything else crushing down in her mind. She slides the bolt of the door open, blinking furiously to get rid of the tears, and let’s Jamie in, who already looks concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

Dani shakes her head. “Nothing. Nothing, tough supervision.”

Jamie doesn’t believe her for a second; Dani knew she wouldn’t. “Come on, Poppins. It's a Sunday, for a start, and I just watched you make eye contact and storm away from me at a hundred miles an hour. Now I know I can’t have done anything to upset you considering I haven’t spoken to you since yesterday morning, so that must mean something else has.” Jamie reaches for her as she speaks, but Dani jerks herself away, pacing over to the window and staring out of it, bracing herself against the makeshift window-seat.

“I spoke with my mother today.”

If Jamie is hurt at Dani’s rejection of her comfort, she doesn’t show it. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I take it Karen didn’t jump for joy, then.” 

Any other day she’d want nothing more than to let Jamie’s teasing tone wash away the serious nature of her mother’s response. Any other time she’d crack a joke in response, let Karen’s words wash right off of her, lose herself in Jamie and forget all about them. But those insinuations have burrowed into her, targeting her anxious mind and running it into overdrive, all Dani can hear are the words _failure_ and _distraction_ and _disappointment_ on repeat, and something in her snaps, spinning around and feeling angry tears pricking. “No. No, she didn’t,” she can see Jamie regretting her light tone, but she doesn’t stop. “And I’m sorry if you think that’s funny, but I’m not laughing. I’m not laughing at her, I’m not laughing at my fucking transcript, which I failed, by the way, thanks for asking, and I’m definitely not laughing at the fact that her gay daughter is the let-down of the century. Because none of that is fucking _funny_ , Jamie, not when I’m the punchline.”

Jamie’s eyes are wide, her shock at Dani’s reaction written all over her face. Dani doesn’t think she’s ever felt this angry in her life - she knows how unfair she’s being, knows that Jamie is trying to help, and that her girlfriend deserves a much more rational response than the one she’s getting, but the frustration in her situation is coursing through Dani like red-hot lava, and she wants to rage and rage and rage some more until it’s out. Twenty three years of keeping her head down, biting her tongue back, keeping everyone in her life happy at her own expense is exploding out of her. No amount of years with Eddie, with her mother, could have prepared her for just how out of control she feels. 

She stands firm, breathing heavily as Jamie reels. “Wow, okay. Dani, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to say anything like that. It’s just that, well, your mum is _kind of_ an asshole, I didn’t want you to take her opinions too seriously, I guess”

Dani lets out a hollow, empty laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, why would I do that, she’s only my _mother._ I’ve only spent my entire life trying to mould myself to be acceptable to everyone I’ve ever known. Not all of us are like you, Jamie, happy with who we are and going through life without a care in the fucking world. And that-“

“Without a care in the fucking world? Jesus _Christ,_ Dani, I know you’re hurting and I know you’re angry, but you don’t get to tell me that I’ve had it fucking easy. Not today, not any day.”

Dani wants to _scream._ Rip a hole in her chest and let everything she’s ever felt bleed out. “And you’re not the only one, Jamie! You’re not the only one here who had a crappy time of it. I’ve been yelled at, insulted, belittled, had things thrown across a room at me because I wasn’t fucking _good enough_ . So fuck me for trying to be, yeah? Fuck me for trying to make something of myself, prove to everyone I left behind that I’m a good person, a hard worker, someone successful. Why bother, huh? Why bother when it clearly isn’t _fucking_ true!” The tears are coming, thick and fast, and she wipes them away angrily, staring dead ahead as she does. Her hands are shaking, fuck, her entire body is shaking, she feels fury and anger and so gloriously _alive_ that she almost forgets who she is. Who she’s with.

Jamie steps towards her, extending a hand and then almost immediately thinking better of it. “Dani. You _are_ good enough. You’re not who they made you out to be. You’re so much _better_ than your mother is making you out to be.”

Dani threads her hands through her hair, letting out a frustrated growl. “But that’s the thing, Jamie! I _was_ the asshole! I ran out in the middle of the night on people who loved me, good people, and I got so caught up in my work, and my books, and _you,_ that I somehow convinced myself I was doing the right thing,” she says through tears. “Mom’s right. If I’m failing, it’s _my_ fault. It’s because _I’m_ not giving it everything. And if this is going to work, if me being here is going to work, I have to make it my entire life. And you’re a distraction, Christ, you’re my whole world, and I’ve been stupid enough to forget the reason I came here in the first place. I can't let you, us, I can't let it fuck up my future. And right now, it is.”

Jamie stares at her, open-mouthed, the tense silence in the room so thick you could cut it. Dani expects a retort, wants Jamie to respond, wants Jamie to cross the room and hold her and tell her how _ridiculous_ she’s being, that it’s just her mother getting in her head.

She doesn’t.

She turns on her heel, walks down the stairs, and leaves.

Dani _hates_ herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look you all saw the angst tag and clicked on this anyway, so i'm refusing to take any responsibility here. (ues i will at least consider writing a detailed pub quiz section, or possibly even throw it up as a related one-shot separate to this main fic, 'cause i can't quite seem to write it in naturally)
> 
> as ever, chatting with you all in the comments really does make my day. toodles xx


	7. kiss and make up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i was going to give it another day, but i'm in full lockdown again and there's enough angst in the world right now, so have several thousand words of reconciliation, smut, and dani getting her shit together. enjoy.
> 
> (recontextualising viola to be a positive influence in dani's life is something that can be so personal)

Monday is _awful._

Dani almost doesn’t get up, almost turns her alarm clock off and burrows back under the covers. She wants nothing more than to shut the entire world out, pretend nothing happened and drink herself into unconsciousness. But her grades won’t fix themselves, and Christ, she absolutely _refuses_ to turn into her mother.

She does allow herself an extra moment, staring up at the ceiling and realising this is the first time in weeks she’s woken up alone. Her eyes are sore from crying, her throat hoarse and scratched, and she finally forces herself up, downing a couple of ibuprofen tablets and choking down a glass of water. Glances in the mirror, then away again. She looks like _shit._

Her supervision is disastrous. Viola is the picture of grace, as always, and Dani couldn’t even bring herself to brush her hair, rolling through the door almost ten minutes late despite living just down the road. She’s pretty sure her jumper has a stain on it, knows she hasn’t washed her jeans in far longer than she should have, but she doesn’t care. Her course is a bust, she’s lost Jamie, what’s the _fucking point._

Charlotte, her supervisor, goes somewhat easy in the session itself, but Dani gets an earful over the fact she’s forgotten her essay. She hadn’t finished it anyway, having meant to do it the previous evening, but she can barely even remember the title at this point, letting Charlotte’s reprimand wash over her as she stares blankly ahead. Vaguely registers Viola’s _that’s enough, she can bring it next week,_ musters up a muttered _thank you_ as her focus drifts off again. She isn’t even thinking of Jamie, just blank, empty nothingness. The tears were almost preferable to the numbness she currently feels.

The rest of the session passes in a daze - Charlotte realises fairly fast that she isn’t getting anything out of Dani, and after Viola had squandered her more brusque approach, the conversation turns away from her. Dani spends the time staring out of the window, looking across the expanse of the Selwyn quad, not registering anything going on either in or outside of the room. Viola and Charlotte are talking, presumably going over Viola’s research from the week, but it just sounds like a low buzz to Dani, who can’t bring herself to so much as look at the time to see when she’ll be allowed to leave.

Eventually, she feels a hand on her shoulder, and Viola encourages her up and out, past Charlotte and down the stairs to the exit. Viola is practically guiding her, despite the route being familiar - Dani could be at Selwyn or in the middle of the Grand Canyon for all she cares.

“Walk with me, darling. You look like you could use the company, and I don’t particularly think you ought to be alone right now.”

Dani wants to refuse Viola, wants to go home and bury herself in bed and cry until she falls asleep, but she steels herself, nodding. If nothing else, it’ll pass the time, and Viola is interesting intellectual company, so she has to imagine she’ll be interesting social company. And she’s right. Dani really, really doesn’t want to be alone.

“Since you’d rather talk to me about whatever it is on your mind instead of running to the Fellows, I assume you’ll want to avoid your gardener. I’m meeting Isabel at Sidney Sussex in just under two hours, so if you’d like to come with me, we can avoid the public and Clare as well.”

Dani nods again. Sidney Sussex is a bit of a trek, but Viola’s right, she can’t handle seeing Jamie just yet. If nothing else, it’ll give her a bit of space to breathe.

They walk in silence, Viola allowing her to gather her thoughts and take in deep breaths of fresh air. Dani forces herself to go through the grounding process in her head, taking a note of everything her senses are processing and listing them. They walk through town, past the market, and Dani lets her eyes scan over the stalls, adding the wares on sale to her list of details. It’s a pleasant day, she notices, unsure whether it makes her feel better or worse. Eventually, they emerge by the large Waterstones, and take a turn up the road to Sidney Sussex. Dani doesn’t think she’s been before, the chalky brown brick unfamiliar, but Viola seems to know where she’s going, leading them through the Porter’s Lodge and out into the Master’s Garden, finding a bench on the path for them to sit on.

“So. Would you like to start, or do you need a little longer?”

Dani shakes her head. “It’s just all a bit much. I’m failing, I don’t know if Charlotte said. One of my modules. I found out yesterday. I thought calling my mom would help, though it never has before.” She stops, not sure how to continue. Viola waits patiently, showing no sign of disinterest, and Dani gathers her thoughts.

“I left Iowa without telling anybody. I left my fiancé, Eddie, asleep in bed, put a note on the table, got on a plane in the middle of the night, and came here. I haven’t spoken to anyone from there since. I told him it was over in the note, told him I was gay, that I was sorry, but I had to start over. I guess I thought that would be enough for my mom to realise how unhappy I was. But he was there when I called, and she got mad, and when I mentioned Jamie, she just lost it. Told me I was a failure and a disappointment, that it was somehow Jamie’s fault. I hung up, and had a falling out with Jamie last night. A bad one. And here I am, I guess.” She takes a deep breath, hearing her voice trembling and knowing she’s on the edge. Viola simply hums her acknowledgement, waiting to check that Dani has finished, before responding. 

“My mother was always difficult. Myself and Perdita brush it off easily, but Isabel has a harder time,” Viola says calmly, looking out over the garden. “Parents are tricky. They’re good at getting inside your head. They created you, after all. It makes sense that they know where all your weak spots are. They’re the ones that designed them.”

“Yeah.” Dani pauses, thinking. “I just, like, I’ve always had to deal with her. I’ve always had nit-picky comments and insults. She wasn’t violent, not really, but on occasion. But it feels like I still wasn’t prepared for her reaction. She was _so_ angry. And the fact that she had Eddie there, in her house on a random Sunday morning, well. It’s clear whose side she’s on. And I don’t think I’m ever going to talk her round.”

Viola turns to look at her. “I’m going to say something a bit harsh, Dani. But I think you need to hear it.”

Dani nods, bracing herself. 

“Don’t bother.” Viola pauses, gathering her words. “Really. Don’t bother. You’ve done so well to get yourself here. One bad grade isn’t the end of that. You can make up the essays, sit an extra class, resit that exam, there’s options. But it sounds as if the only way you could get your mother to listen is by conceding everything you have in your life. Everything that makes you _you._ And some things, Dani, aren’t worth it. Some sacrifices aren’t yours to make.”

Dani, embarrassingly, starts crying.

To her surprise, Viola sweeps her into a hug, holding her close as Dani sobs. Ironically, Viola’s embrace feels motherly, safe, and Dani cries and cries, finally letting out everything she’s spent the day trying to bottle down.

Viola soothes her for a moment, before continuing, keeping Dani held tightly. “You also implied that whatever is happening with you and your gardener is a result of this conversation. And yes, I don’t know the details, but you probably said something hurtful, since you’re hurting. While I won’t excuse that, I know you’re already feeling guilty. And I don’t think it’s anything an apology and a sit-down chat can’t fix.”

Dani sniffs heavily, nodding her head. “I was _horrible_ to her. I just feel awful,” she croaks out, and Viola pats her shoulder.

“I know, love. But you’re going to feel a lot worse if you let that woman walk out of your life, especially when you blame yourself for it. So, do you know what you’re going to do?”

Dani shakes her head.

“You’re going to go home, and you’re going to have a long, hot shower. You’re then going to sit and write down what you need to do to fix this grade. You’re going to have an early night, sleep with the window open to clear the air, skip your lecture tomorrow, and then, when you feel strong enough, you’re going to go to your gardeners house and do some grovelling. Understand?”

She half-laughs at this, sniffing again and sitting up, wiping her eyes and nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good. I ought to be getting to Isabel, really, but will you please phone me tonight, so that I know you’re safe?”

Dani nods, opening her notebook to a blank page for Viola to write her phone number in. They stand, and Dani hugs the older woman, whispering a _thank you_ as she does. Viola nods at her, reaching out to place a hand on Dani’s chin, gently lifting it in a gesture of solidarity. Dani smiles at her, wipes her eyes one last time, and they go their separate ways. Dani doesn’t let her chin drop.

*

She doesn’t go straight home, nor to Clare, still not wanting to bump into Jamie before she’s had a chance to get herself together. Instead, she finds herself wandering towards the chapel at St. Catherine’s, feeling a need for solace and quiet.

She’s been a few times now, with Hannah, and feels almost guilty that she prefers it to the chapel at Clare. The wood is beautifully polished, the tile floor gleams in the light, but Dani’s favourite aspect is the organ, towering over the room, as much of a guardian as the God it plays to praise. The chapel is mercifully empty when she gets there, and Dani slides into a pew, staring up at the organ pipes and trying to let her mind clear.

She doesn’t pray, but reflects. Thinks about the anger that had been coursing through her last night, the misery she feels in the present, the determination to make things right and undo the damage. In a bizarre way, she feels almost glad at the fury of the past twenty four hours - hurting Jamie aside, she honestly hadn’t thought she could feel that _deeply_ anymore, years of stifled emotions and putting on a brave face leading her to believe she was just a mellow person. She hates that Jamie had been the target, despises the words that had flown out of her, but wishes and wishes she’d been able to feel that anger before, in Iowa, in school, at ten years old with her mother bringing home the fifth guy in two weeks, the one who put his cigarette out on her arm and laughed and laughed about it. Dani never understood the complexity of herself before, too many years of being described as a quite, one-note person having burrowed deep within her mind, but she knows now just what a lie it had all been.

Her mind wanders to Jamie. Wonders if Hannah and Owen know what happened, if they hate her as much as Jamie has every right to, or if Jamie has retreated, buried herself in the Fellows’ Garden and worked her frustration out into the soil. Wonders if Jamie is feeling as miserable as she is. 

Wonders if Jamie will even agree to speak to her tomorrow, as much as she tries not to think about it.

She hears the ticking of the clock, surprised to look up and find she’s been sitting there for almost two hours. Stands, casting one last look at the organ, stops on the way out to light a candle as a thank-you to the chapel. The walk home feels somewhat lighter, the combination of Viola’s words and self-reflection propelling her forward. Viola’s to-do list sticks in her mind as she unlocks the door, stripping off and heading straight to the shower, losing her thoughts in hot water and scrubbing away the evidence of her upset, brushing through her hair under the flow of water. _Step one_ , she thinks shakily, drying off and sitting on her bed, wrestling her hair into two thick braids to give it a bit of volume.

Her notebook lies open on her desk, the forgotten supervision essay plan looking up at her. She rips it out, tossing it to one side, and gets to work on her grade plan. _Speak with tutor. Repeat exam - 10% grade penalty. Ask for extra credit to make up penalty. Resubmit January essay. Talk about summertime catch up._ _Beg._

The more she writes, the more the weight lifts. Viola was right - she had options. If the exam retake went well enough, she might not even have to try and make up the grade reduction, though Dani already knows she will, the drive within her to succeed even stronger than before. Jamie’s cactus sits on the desk with her, keeping her company, and her mind begins to wander to what she needs to say tomorrow. She barely remembers what she said to Jamie, knows it was hurtful but the details are gone - _well,_ she thinks, _you’ll just have to hope she doesn’t want to shout back._

The clock reads a quarter past nine, and she thinks of Viola’s next instruction. _Early night with the window open, but call me when you can._ It’s somewhat chilly outside, but Dani isn’t one to break her promises, especially considering the damage she’s already done lately, and so she grabs her coat, heading outside to walk the short distance to the same Sidgwick payphone that had kicked this whole thing off in the first place. Viola picks up quickly, and Dani confirms that she’s home, thanking her again for the afternoon. “Any time,” Viola responds, and Dani can tell she means it. “You’re a remarkable talent, Clayton. I’d hate to see that overshadowed by anyone without your best interests at heart.”

Dani smiles, starting to nod before remembering that Viola can’t see her. “Thank you. I’ve made that list, of what to do to pass. It feels easier already.”

“Good. Now go home, get warm, and get some sleep. If you can’t keep your mind still, go to your lecture, but personally I think you’ve earned a day off. Fitzbillies on Trumpington does the most remarkable Chelsea buns.”

Dani laughs at that. “I got one yesterday, but I’m sure another one could be arranged.” 

“Good. I’ll let you get to bed now. Goodnight, Dani.”

“Take care, Viola. Thank you again.”

“You too. Sweet dreams.”

Dani clicks the receiver, hearing her coins clink down and turning to head home, remembering to open the window as she gets in. She changes into her pyjamas, settling into bed, holding onto a pillow as she drifts off and hopes to God it’ll be Jamie she’s holding tomorrow.

*

Dani wants to run to Jamie the second she wakes up. Drop to her knees in the middle of the Fellows’ Garden and _beg_ , if that’s what it takes. But she feels uncomfortable confronting Jamie at work - cornering her somewhere she can’t leave from feels unfair, particularly when she knows the garden is Jamie’s space. She doesn’t want to intrude on that, or God forbid make Jamie think Dani has so little regard for her feelings that she’d ruin her safe place without a second thought. _No_ , Dani resolves, _you can wait a few more hours._

After snoozing for a bit longer, she eventually drags herself out of bed at quarter past eleven. Dani doesn’t think she’s ever slept for that long in her entire life - a testament to her emotional exhaustion, clearly. 

She has no idea how the day passes so quickly. Her supervision essay finally gets written, and she hopes it’ll be decent enough that the late penalty won’t be too much of a handicap. She curls up in bed again after finishing, flicking open Patricia Highsmith’s _The Price of Salt_ , immersing herself in the world of Carol and Therese. Dani is somewhat surprised at how calmly she’s passing the day, and wonders if this is the secret key to Viola’s disposition, just planning the day out practically the hour so she knows what to expect at any given point of it. Not the worst idea.

When the clock hits five, she gathers herself, gets changed and puts Jamie’s daffodil necklace on, heading out into the open and making her way through town. She considers stopping at the market, wondering if she should pick up some kind of apology gift, but decides against it. Jamie doesn’t need additional tokens or bribes - she’ll either forgive Dani, or she won’t, but Dani knows instinctively that if Jamie perceives Dani as trying to buy her an apology she’ll be even more hurt. No, this is down to Dani, and Dani alone.

She falters a little as she gets to Thompson’s Lane, the quiet confidence Viola had instilled in her dissipating. But Jamie is more important than her doubts, deserves better than to be ignored and insulted for even another minute, and the thought is enough to push Dani forwards, barely able to feel her legs as she takes one step after another. She stops outside the gate to the house, the key in her possession practically burning a hole in her pocket, but she wills herself forward, knocks three times. No _way_ is she going to let herself in.

She knows Owen will be at the restaurant, so she’s got a fifty-fifty chance of getting Hannah or Jamie, and Dani honestly can’t tell which of those options is better. She can hear footsteps on the stairs, the rattle of the lock and door opening, and then there stands Jamie, barefoot and exhausted, looking about as tired as Dani is.

“Hey.”

“Dani. Hi.”

“Look,” Dani starts, biting her lip nervously. “You know why I’m here. You know me better than anyone, so I know you know how sorry I am. We can talk here, or inside, or outside, or wherever, but please, _please_ let me say something. I feel _awful_. And I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Jamie looks at her for a long moment, before dipping behind the door, grabbing her coat and shoes, and stepping out onto the garden path. “Alright. Not here, though.”

Dani nods, equal parts hopeful and worried. The door hadn’t been slammed in her face, and she guesses that’s a decent start - she wouldn’t have blamed Jamie for that response.

They walk up to Jesus Green, towards the river, avoiding the tourists near the punting hires and down to a more private spot near the lido. Jamie gestures to a spot just next to the riverbank, and they sit. “Do you want to go first, or should I?” Jamie says, not looking at Dani, instead focussing her eyes across the river.

“I don’t think that’s really my choice to make.”

“Alright.” Jamie pauses. “You then. I don’t know what Sunday was, Dani, but I think your mother is behind it. I’m not going to pretend you didn’t hurt me, ‘cause you did, and you have to take responsibility for that. But I want to know what caused it. Because I think I was just the nearest target.”

Dani lets out a deep, shuddering breath. Go time.

“You’re right. You’re right, and I’m sorry, and I’m going to say that a lot today because I need you to know how much I mean it.” She stops, looking over the river, not wanting to look at Jamie for fear of what she might see. “It’s like, my entire life I’ve always been quiet. Shy, mellow, whatever you want to call it. My mom is a serial alcoholic who just wanted an easy daughter, Eddie had such a fixed idea of me that I was scared to break it. I just pushed it all down, I guess. Got on with it. I don’t know why I called them, well, why I called Mom. Eddie just conveniently happened to be there. It really threw me off, and then she was saying all this stuff about me, and about you, and I just...snapped.”

Jamie shifts next to her, saying nothing.

“I’ve never felt anger like that before. I could have, I don't know, trashed that entire house, set fire to it, screamed all night and I still don’t think I’d have used it all up. In a weird way, I think I was trying to protect you. Sort of half not wanting you to see that side of me, though I guess that failed pretty badly. And half knowing that the reason I was so angry is because she went after you. She doesn’t even know you, but she used you against me, twisted you into something you’re not, something you could never be. I hate that she still gets to me so much. I couldn’t get her voice out of my head, even when you were there with me.”

“What did she say to you?”

Dani ducks her head. “I don’t know, the usual. How it was your fault I was failing. That I’d let them all down and couldn’t even do a good job of what I abandoned them to do. That she was disappointed, as always. Eddie kept talking about how we could still get married, how I could come back to Iowa and he’d forget the whole thing happened, like he was offering me some kind of goddamn _favour._ Just the fact that he was _there_ made me feel so, so sick. How she finally had a reason to be proud of me, and I’d blown it up in her face. How people like me, as she put it, practically deserved failure.”

Jamie doesn’t look at her, but Dani feels a hand gently take hold of hers, a gesture of solidarity. She takes a breath, lifting her head again. “I know it didn’t give me a right to say what I said to you. And I wish more than anything that I could go back and slap myself, never pick that phone up and talk things through with you properly. You deserve so much better than for me to explode at you like that. I didn’t mean it, any of it, Jamie, I swear. Not a single word. I just felt like I was on fire, and like nobody could understand, and you were so, _so_ sweet even when I was practically screaming at you, and I just…” Dani stops, feeling Jamie squeeze her hand. “I didn’t mean it at all, except for one bit. That you’re my whole world. You _are_ , and you’re so good, so patient, so wonderful, and I love you _so_ much, and I get it if you can’t forgive me, but I have to keep apologising or I’ll go mad. I’m sorry.”

She hears Jamie take a deep breath, and braces herself.

“Alright.”

Silence.

“Alright?”

“Alright.” Jamie shifts to finally look at her, still weary, but with her earlier steeliness gone. “Listen, Dani. I _get_ it. Christ, if anybody knows what absolute fucking _fury_ feels like, I do. And yeah, you hurt me, and it was shit, but honestly, I don’t think there’s anything I can say that would make you feel worse than you already do. And I don’t want to punish you, Poppins. God knows I’ve done enough in my life to withstand a bit of panicked shouting. So, alright. I forgive you. Because, honestly, I think you needed that.”

“Not sure you were the target I had in mind.”

Jamie cracks a half-smile at that. “No, neither am I. And yeah, I’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of days wondering if I wanted to forgive you, or even if I could. But for every bit of anger in you, there’s ten bits of love. And I’d be a bit of a shit girlfriend if I only decided to deal with the good bits.”

Dani squeezes her hand tightly.

“Having said that, Poppins, I’m not usually too forgiving by nature. Even the idea that I could be holding you back, or throwing you off, or anything like that is _hell._ I’ve spent a lot of my life being told I was a burden to everyone who was meant to love me, and I can’t go through that with you too.”

“You’re not. You could never be. You make me so happy, and you make me feel like me, you know? Like I didn’t really know myself before you came along, and now I just...make sense. You could never hold me back, Jamie. You’re what keeps me moving forward.”

Jamie’s half-smile turns into a full one, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. “So next time your mother makes you feel like that, put me on the phone with her, yeah? I’ll have enough of a go at her that by the end you’ll forget you were ever the angry one.”

Dani lets out a giggle at that. “So we’re okay?”

Jamie takes hold of her other hand as well, rubbing her thumb over Dani’s knuckles. “Yeah. We’re okay. And lucky for you I hadn’t bitched you out to Hannah and Owen just yet, so if you want to come back for dinner tonight, well, you’re not getting thrown to the wolves. Though Owen will _definitely_ spend the whole evening talking pub quiz strategy.”

Dani finally, _finally_ feels the tension drain out of her, leaning forward to kiss Jamie, gently capturing her lips with her own. One of Jamie’s hands makes its way up to gently cup her cheek, tenderly stroking her cheekbone, and Dani winds her own around Jamie’s waist, drawing her in and supporting her. They separate slowly, foreheads resting against each other. “I love you,” Dani murmurs, tucking a strand of Jamie’s hair behind her ear. “So much. I don’t deserve you.” 

Jamie kisses her again, deeper this time. “We deserve each other, Poppins. The jailbird and the ticking time bomb. Hell of a combination.”

Dani laughs, and kisses her again. 

*

They end up back at Dani’s instead, neither of them feeling particularly up to a group meal. Dani had changed into her pyjamas pretty much as soon as they walked through the door, throwing Jamie a large t-shirt to borrow, one that she already knows she’s never getting back. The sight of Jamie in her tiny kitchen, muttering something aggressively at a pot of pasta in Dani’s massive shirt while the radio plays softlymakes her heart clench. She moves off the bed and walks towards her, slipping both arms around Jamie’s waist and turning her head to the side, resting it lightly on Jamie’s shoulder. She feels her girlfriend turn and press a light kiss to her hair, and Dani sighs contentedly. _How did I get this lucky,_ she wonders, closing her eyes for a blissful moment.

Jamie isn’t exactly a dream cook, somehow almost burning the pasta itself, but after some light swearing and a bit more cleaning than Dani had hoped for they’ve got a decent carbonara made, Jamie sat on the bed while Dani takes the desk chair, propping her feet on Jamie’s lap as they eat. She’d heard tales and accounts of make-up sex, of angry fucking under hot covers, but she honestly thinks she prefers this. As much as she enjoys sex with Jamie - and _God,_ does she enjoy it - this gentle domesticity is enough for her to tangibly feel the rip between them repairing itself, building back impossibly stronger than before. _Plus,_ she thinks, _plenty of time for that later._

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She looks up, meeting Jamie’s eyes and feeling her lips quirk up. “Just thinking how happy I am to have you.”

“Sap.”

Dani rolls her eyes with a smile. 

“You know, there’s something I want to show you, tonight. Been working on it for a while now. Settle in for a bit, and we can head out around eleven? I’ll have you tucked up in bed at a reasonably respectable time,” Jamie says with a wink, and Dani flushes, knowing exactly what _that_ means. She nods, finishing her pasta and taking their bowls to wash up. She hears Jamie rise off the bed, soft footsteps padding over, feels strong hands slide around her hips and the ghost of a kiss on the nape of her neck, through her hair. She leans back into the touch, letting the bowls slip into the sink, rinsing her hands and turning in Jamie’s arms, letting her own hands drift up to her girlfriends shoulders. Dani leans in, kisses her, softly at first, pulling back just as Jamie moves to deepen it, teasing. Jamie’s hands move from her hips down to her ass, pulling Dani flush against her, and Dani hears a gasp fall through her lips. Jamie smirks at her, leaning in to capture her lips properly, tongue coaxing her to deepen the kiss. 

They stumble backwards, Dani lowering Jamie onto the end of her bed, making quick work of her shirt before tearing her own off, wasting no time, throwing her pyjama trousers immediately after. Jamie props herself up on her elbows, unashamedly watching, but when she reaches a hand out to touch Dani, Dani lightly slaps it away. “Look. Don’t touch.”

Jamie’s face is _priceless_.

Dani is naturally the more submissive of the two, typically more comfortable letting Jamie take the lead and set the pace, but tonight, she wants to try something a little different.

Jamie looks up at her through dark eyes, and Dani is _sure_ her breathing is shallower than it was. Dani moves to the desk, turning the radio up ever so slightly, some husky jazz she doesn’t recognise softly filling the space. She moves her hips in time to the music, giving Jamie a bit of show as she makes her way back towards her girlfriend. 

Jamie is still leaning on her elbows on the bed, having shuffled backwards to get a bit more comfortable, and an idea forms in Dani’s mind. The scarf she bought at the Fitzwilliam Museum is resting on the back of her desk chair, and she picks it up, turning to Jamie with a sultry look in her eye. 

“Trust me?”

Jamie swallows, heavy arousal evident in her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, always.”

Dani leans over, leaning closer into Jamie than she strictly needed to, and moves her hands up to the top of the bed frame, looping the scarf around her girlfriend’s wrists and tying them to the slats against the wall, enjoying Jamie’s sharp intake of breath as the penny drops. When she’s done, satisfied that Jamie understands what her role is tonight, she leans back, kissing Jamie heavily before standing back up, letting her body move to the dulcet tones of Nina Simone as she unhooks her bra, sliding it slowly down her arms, Jamie’s reactions boosting her confidence more and more by the second. She wouldn’t have had the guts to do anything _near_ this even a month ago, but despite her nervous nature, Dani’s really, _really_ enjoying herself.

She tosses her bra to one side, and her underwear soon follows, sliding agonisingly slowly down to the floor. She approaches Jamie, enjoys the flush of her cheeks and the heavy breaths she can hear. Jamie looks like she’s going to burst, and Dani takes her time crawling up towards her, straddling Jamie’s left thigh and trailing a hand enticingly down her girlfriend’s sternum, enjoying the way Jamie’s spine curves as she pushes herself further into Dani’s touch. Dani skims the underside of her breast with her thumb, moves her hand down to touch wet heat, and makes direct eye contact with Jamie as she removes her hand, taking her time as she licks her fingers, looking Jamie dead in the eye as she does. 

Jamie moans lightly, opens her mouth to say something, but is stopped by Dani’s finger against her lips. She shakes her head, instead sinking further up on Jamie’s thigh, before grinding down sharply, taking a second to find _just_ the right angle as she does. 

Jamie’s hands are subconsciously straining against the scarf as Dani speeds up, breathing heavily and palming her own breasts as she does, letting out a whine every time she feels the delicious pressure on her clit. Jamie’s hips are canting upwards, evidently trying to get some kind of relief, but Dani is firm, ignoring her. She shifts her own hips faster, feeling her orgasm building, ripping her hair tie out of her ponytail and letting her hair fluff around her face in a way she knows drives Jamie crazy.

“Fuck, Dani, don’t you _dare_ stop.”

She doesn’t. The pressure mounts, and a few seconds later she’s crying out, grinding down hard and breathing heavily as she whines Jamie’s name, riding her orgasm out as she drops forward, leaning her forehead between Jamie’s breasts as she catches her breath again. A tinge of embarrassment begins to claw in, but then Jamie is speaking in a low, husky voice, erasing her doubts. 

“That,” Jamie says, pausing. “That is the hottest thing that has _ever_ happened to me. Like, _ever_.”

Dani breathes out a laugh, leaning up to untie Jamie’s wrists. “It wasn’t too much?”

“Fucking _hell_ , Dani, _no_. But fair warning, do it too often and I might spontaneously combust.”

Dani smirks, leaning down and kissing her, feeling Jamie’s hands roam over the expanse of her back, up to her shoulder blades, back down to her waist. She slides her hands under Jamie, unhooking her bra, and Jamie gives her a look that is absolutely _devilish_ as she flips them over, trailing kisses down Dani’s body and finally ravishing her, the buildup and heady desire in the room quickly leading to Dani’s second climax before she returns the favour, losing herself in Jamie’s moans and whines as she finally concedes to her girlfriend’s desperation.

*

Later, when they’ve dragged themselves out of bed and to Jamie’s surprise, Dani will stare at the moonflower, kiss her deeply, and tell her that no matter what comes their way, she knows already that she wants Jamie in her life forever.

Jamie, to her utter delight, says the exact same thing back to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i copped out of writing the moonflower but honestly it's been done in so many ways and by so many better writers than me on here that i just don't feel i have anything to add to it, you know? so i'll allow you all to dream it up
> 
> two more to go. your comments are keeping me afloat in scary horrible times and i want to french kiss you all for several minutes. xx


	8. onwards, to the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cool, so i’m writing this as an all out coup happens in america and wondering exactly how i’m supposed to process the events of today in a vaguely academic way tomorrow. sending much love to anyone in the us, i can only imagine how terrifying this is to watch while you’re there, but i trust that things are going to come to a close eventually, and please stay inside, safe, and in contact with friends and family as much as possible, even if you’re not in an area that’s reportedly affected.
> 
> here we are at the final chapter! holy shit! i literally have no idea how masters degrees are assessed so please do not correct me! creative licence!
> 
> i’ll be writing an epilogue, hence the increase from eight chapters to nine, and i’ll put all of my thoughts and thanks in the end note of that. i’m genuinely so upset to be finishing this, and considered extending it, but i don’t want to draw it out unnecessarily, and this feels like a natural conclusion - we’ve reached the end of dani’s initial journey, and as much as this is a fic about the two of them, it’s always been about her at the crux of it, and i’m happy to let her continue on in this universe without me to guide her. love to you all x

“In summary: it becomes clear that the use of metaphors are more effective in children’s literature than in books aimed at adults - young children have vibrant imaginations and naturally pick up on the imagery that the author lays down. We think of metaphors as being too complex for pre-adolescent children, but in doing so, we underestimate them. As natural storytellers, children are predisposed to metaphorical language, and to pretend otherwise, particularly when this goes as far as removing metaphors from children’s stories, does them a tremendous misservice, one we may not be able to make amends for in later life.”

Dani lowers her speech cards, making eye contact with the panel that sit opposite her. So much of her grade depends on this presentation, and she wills herself to keep her confidence for just a few minutes more. 

“Thank you, Miss Clayton. Have you been informed where to find your final grade and feedback, when it is released?”

Dani nods, forcing her hands to stay still. “Yes, thank you, sir. And thank you all for your time, I look forward to hearing your thoughts.”

The panel, comprised of senior University professors, offer an array of nods, and she gathers her candidate information with a final smile, heading out into the corridor where Jamie is leaning against the wall, waiting for her. Jamie sweeps her into a tight hug as soon as the door closes behind her, squeezing Dani tightly and whispering how proud she is into her hair. Dani clings to her, losing herself in the touch and scent of Jamie, takes a second to pause and notice every minute detail of the woman surrounding her. 

Eventually she draws back, and Jamie presses a kiss to her temple, entwining their hands together. “Four o’clock, Poppins. I think that’s early enough for a drink, and you can tell me _everything_.”

Dani grins at her, leaning in to bump her shoulder against Jamie’s. “Yours, mine, or A Batter Place?”

“Mine, ideally. Got a bit of a surprise for you.”

“Well,” Dani says, “how can I resist that?”

*

Jamie, as ever, remains tight-lipped as they walk to Thompson’s Lane, enjoying each other’s company. Dani feels the lightened weight of her final assessment finally being over, realises that, until her results and graduation, she’s _done_ it. Proved to herself that she’s still Dani Clayton, she’s a top-notch scholar in her field and level of study, that she’s held her own throughout the strangest year of her life. 

They breeze through the market, Dani tugging Jamie’s hand as they go past the bookseller, fishing around in her pocket for enough coins. Jamie watches inquisitively as Dani picks up a paperback and pays without hesitation. The bookseller, who Dani has finally learned is named Margaret, knows her well by now, offering a friendly _hello_ to the pair and putting a free bookmark inside the cover with a wink.

“Thanks, Margaret, that’s really kind of you. How’s Tabitha?”

Margaret’s face lights up. “She’s good, sweetheart. Hip’s moving better these days. Left her in bed this morning with the paper, and if I’m lucky, she’ll have done the crossword by the time I pack up here so I won’t have to do the blasted thing with her.” The final sentence is said with affection, and it warms Dani’s heart. She remembers the gentle exchange of realisation the first time she’d brought Jamie with her here, who Margaret had vaguely recognised. Margaret in turn had mentioned Tabitha, her partner, who was a porter at Peterhouse, and Dani still has a mental note to look out for her if she ever finds herself nearby before her time at the University is over.

“Give her my love.”

“And mine,” Jamie says, who isn’t as well-acquainted with the woman. Dani knows Jamie likes seeing them interact, likes seeing Dani form bonds outside of the Thompson’s Lane residents, and Margaret is a kind woman, someone Dani knows Jamie will grow quickly fond of.

“Enjoy your evening, girls. Stay out of trouble.”

“Not if I can help it,” Dani says with a glint in her eye, thanking Margaret again and taking the book. They turn to exit the market, and Dani hands it to Jamie, who looks down at the copy of P. L. Travers’ _Mary Poppins_ that she’s just been handed.

“Felt like if you were going to appropriate her name for me, you ought to have actually put the work in,” Dani says with a cheeky grin, and Jamie rolls her eyes with a smile, kissing her gently in thanks and entwining their hands again as they set off.

Dani has noticed a shift in Jamie over the last few months. She’s as fiercely independent as ever, but she’s somehow more vulnerable, certainly with Dani. They’d spent several days researching Mikey’s case, and Dani knows the final court date is coming up, amazed at just how long legal proceedings took. Jamie had shrugged - _mine took five months from start to finish, depends how hell-bent the victims are at pinning you_ \- but she seemed to be using the time to reconnect with him. They don’t speak often, once or twice a month, but Dani is glad to see that relationship reforming, knows that Jamie is prepared for the worst, and guesses that Mikey will be glad to have her there should the charges go against them.

Something in Jamie has softened - the Jamie that Dani knew back in October would have been mortified at spontaneous gifts, would have wrestled Dani to the floor if it meant not taking her money, but these days she’s more relaxed. Dani had brought it up once, listening as Jamie explained the way gifts in her life had worked; how people typically didn’t give her anything unless it came with consequences or leverage, how any possessions she had usually ended up being taken or used to manipulate her in some way, and Dani’s heart had ached, holding Jamie tightly and promising that she only ever gave her things because she _wanted_ her to have them. It had taken some time, but Jamie had slowly gotten more and more comfortable, returning the favour often, and Dani loves the little bits of her flat that came from her girlfriend. There’s another plant on the windowsill, a small succulent, about ten more books on her bookshelf - she’d finally found that Jamie’s favourite book was Jane Rule’s _Desert of the Heart_ \- and little things Dani has saved from dates and days spent together; pressed flowers from the Fellows’ Garden, notes from Jamie telling her she loves her on the mornings Jamie has had to leave before Dani wakes, a few stolen cardboard coasters from various bar dates that have found a home propped against the wall on her desk. The physical reminders of how her and Jamie bleed into each other anchor her in their time apart, and she hopes Jamie feels the same about the tokens Dani leaves in her life.

She muses over this until they get home - Dani isn’t exactly sure when she started referring to Thompson’s Lane as such, but she finds she doesn’t mind, and Jamie is over the moon whenever it accidentally slips out. She’s begun to pick up on what she thinks are nerves as they get closer, asking Jamie if she’s okay and getting a slightly-too-bright nod. But Jamie doesn’t seem upset, so she lets it go, keeping a close eye on the way Jamie’s hand seems to fidget with the door key for just a little too long.

Hannah and Owen seem to be out, presumably down at the restaurant, and Dani drops her bag by the door as Jamie leads her upstairs. Dani is about to do her usual - that is, launching herself face-first onto Jamie’s bed the second they walk through the door - but waiting in her way is a card, a bouquet, and a bottle of champagne.

“I was going to set it up downstairs, but I don’t know when Hannah and Owen are back, so I thought it’d be better up here,” Jamie says somewhat sheepishly. Dani’s eyes shine as she turns to look at her, taking a moment to appreciate just how beautiful Jamie is in the bright summer sun, the beams sweeping through her bay windows and bouncing off her hair in all directions. 

Dani doesn’t know what to say, padding over to the bed and picking up the card and bouquet, smelling it deeply. “Jamie, this is...thank you,” she says reverently, opening the card. On the front is a painting of what Dani instantly recognised as a moonflower, two bright blooms with leaves twining around them, soft shades of pearl and green and the hint of reflected moonlight. “Beautiful,” Dani murmurs, opening it. 

_Dear Poppins,_

_Well, look at you go. Upheaved your whole life in a night and now you’ve got a Cambridge degree._

_I’m so, so proud of you, Dani. Prouder than I can ever find the words to say out loud. You inspire me every day. I want to jump on the rooftops and scream about how lucky I am, about how beautiful, how intelligent, how determinedly successful you are. Might do it one day._

_For now, my love, be as proud of yourself as I am._

_I love you, always, endlessly._

_Jamie x_

Dani turns to Jamie with tears in her eyes. Jamie is in front of her before she has a chance to speak, kissing her gently, letting the pad of her thumb catch a stray one. She pulls back, and Dani sees the serious look in her eye already.

“So. I’ve got a speech prepared, I guess, because I’m not very good at this sort of thing, but I really want to say it, so can you just...hold off until I’m done?”

Dani nods, vague alarm bells ringing. “Yeah, of course. Take your time.”

Jamie takes a deep breath, and wrings her hands a little, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “Listen, Dani. You’re the strongest, bravest, kindest person I know. You make me feel _so_ good about myself, every day. I wake up next to you and all I can think about is how lucky I am that someone, somewhere, put us in the same space. Made sure we met each other.” She pauses, taking a breath, and Dani feels herself blushing. “I always thought soulmates were kinda bullshit, you know? The idea that there’s, like, billions of people out there but only one of them for me. But I get it now. I met you, and I _get_ it. You’re my everything, and even though you’re pretty perfect yourself, you make me better. Make me _want_ to be better. We’re a partnership, proper, and I love you. So much.”

Jamie looks down as she rakes a hand through her hair, clearly not finished. “So, your course is coming to an end, and I know that means you can’t keep your flat after July. And I don’t know, maybe you don’t want to stay in Cambridge, you want to go somewhere else. But if you were planning on hanging around, well, I’d like that. And I wondered if you wanted to, maybe, look at getting a flat. Together. For both of us.”

Jamie is looking at her now with nervousness all over her face as Dani’s eyes widen. Her brain struggles to catch up, but then she’s grinning, wider than she thinks she ever has, pulling Jamie back onto the bed with the force she kisses her with, almost landing on the champagne as she smiles into her lips, cupping Jamie’s face with both hands. Jamie kisses her back eagerly, pulling back just long enough to stare at her with adoration. “Is that a yes?”

“Oh my God, _yes_ , a million times yes,” Dani replies breathlessly, leaning in to kiss her again.

*

After many, _many_ hours of demonstrating just how excited Dani is for their future, she’s nestled into Jamie, leaning against her as Jamie balances a notebook on her knees, drawn up towards her to rest it on as they lie, the duvet haphazardly draped across them both. They’ve gotten as far as throwing a couple of Jamie’s t-shirts on, on the off chance Hannah or Owen come wandering in, but Dani is so happy she honestly doesn’t think she’d notice if she were still stark naked. The champagne bottle sits open on the side, almost empty, neither of them having wanted to trek downstairs to get any glasses so just passing it between them instead, taking sips straight from the bottle. 

“Window seat, please. Oh, and a bathtub, one of those claw-foot ones preferred, but I’ll take whatever. The Clare showers are _awful._ ”

Jamie chuckles, writing it down on the ‘Dani’ side of the list, entitled ‘Moving Essentials’. Jamie’s side consists of large windows, a sunny kitchen, and either garden access or within walking distance of an allotment. Dani’s side contains the window seat and bathtub, alongside ample bookshelf space and either a desk already there, or room to put one. They’re keeping their wishes relatively low-key, wanting to stay realistic, but Dani is already starting to visualise the life they could have. She already knows there’s going to be plants everywhere, and probably books if she has any say in things. Imagines a well-loved sofa, Jamie’s gardening radio on the side. Bookshelves in their bedroom, maybe a television if they could spare the money. Photos of the two of them, of Hannah and Owen, lining the walls and surfaces.

She can’t wait.

Dani tucks her head into Jamie’s shoulder, feeling a kiss pressed to her hair. “I love you,” she says quietly, closing her eyes for a moment and just _existing_ for a bit. Feeling Jamie by her side, the stars just visible through the window, the plants around them reminding Dani of just how alive she truly is. She thinks back at who she was a year ago - small, scared, pinning everything in the world on a letter and a transcript, spending her days hiding from herself and from the rest of the world. There’s no comparison to who she is now. Danielle is well and truly dead - but Dani is strong, and brave, and alive, and she _knows_ it.

Jamie has started writing different flowers and plants down, assigning them to rooms - violets for the bedroom, fern and English ivy for the kitchen, peace lilies, spider plants, pothos, philodendron, Jamie writes and writes, and Dani clicks that she’s reassigning the plants currently in her bedroom to wherever they go. Her heart warms, and she slips a hand down to Jamie’s thigh, squeezing gently. “When do you want to start looking?”

Jamie thinks for a moment, tapping her pen against the paper. “Well, let’s think. You’re in Clare until what, mid-July?”

“Yeah. July 16th.”

“Cool. So that gives us four weeks, which isn’t long. But you can store your stuff here if we still haven’t got anywhere.”

“I’ve spent more nights here than there anyway,” Dani agrees. “Okay, so soon then? I can go and get a newspaper tomorrow, have a look through?”

Jamie nods her agreement. “Yeah, sounds good. I’m working as normal, but if you want to come down to the Fellows’ then we can talk them through. Nowhere too far out of the centre though. I’d rather pay a bit more for somewhere a bit smaller than have to have a proper commute.”

Dani nods. “I’ve got enough of my grant and savings left for a couple of months of rent, I think. I should be able to get a job soon enough, there’s a lot of summer tutoring going, and schools usually start hiring around August.”

Jamie shuffles a bit next to her, putting the notebook down and turning on her side to face Dani. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we.”

“Yeah,” Dani says, grinning. “We really are.”

*

“Great, thank you, ten works well. Yeah. Yeah of course. Looking forward to it. Have a great day.”

Jamie gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up from the phone, and Dani grins at her, circling the corresponding advertisement in the paper as an affirmative. Jots down the date of their viewing and sighs happily as Jamie makes her way over to her on the sofa. 

“I’ve been thinking.”

Jamie flops down next to her, extending an arm around Dani’s shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I submitted a PhD proposal and application this morning.”

Jamie looks a little surprised, but nods. “Talk to me. It sounds great.”

Dani smile, lips quirking up. “I think I want to be a professor. Teach at the University, then maybe tutor kids part-time. It’s another four years, and I don’t know what funding I’ll get yet, but I really think I can do it.”

“My girlfriend, the sexy professor,” Jamie grins, kissing her cheek. “I think it sounds really great, Poppins. They’ll snap you up. _Doctor Dani Clayton._ I like it already.”

“Doctor and Mrs. Clayton, someday,” Dani says wistfully, not registering the depth of her words until she’s said them. Jamie’s hand stills. 

“You want to get married?”

“Do you...not?”

Jamie shakes her head after a momentary pause. “Never thought about it, I guess. Never thought about the option. But yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like that, someday. If we ever can.”

Dani smiles, nuzzling her head into the crook of Jamie’s shoulder. “Good. Because one day I plan on getting down on one knee and taking your breath away.”

“You already do, Poppins. Every day.”

*

Dani smoothes down her dress one final time, standing in the line at the Department of English Postgraduate Graduation Ceremony. Her course will be called next, and she’s second on the list due to her surname. Her grades had come through as a high merit, four percent off of a distinction thanks to her one bad grade, but she’s over the moon with it - her funding is secure, her doctoral candidacy confirmed, and her first interview as a summer English tutor is next week, a man named Henry Wingrave looking for a tutor for his children. And now, here she is. Getting ready to officially earn her master’s degree.

She looks out over the crowd. Jamie is on a seat at the end of the row, with Viola next to her, Hannah and Owen on the other side of her friend. Dani had sent an invitation to her mother, saying she’d be happy to provide a location if she wanted to come, but had received no response. She finds herself undisturbed by it, looking out over her four supporters, and Jamie catches her eye with a wink, mouthing an _I love you_ across the space.

Her mother might not be there, but she doesn’t need her to be. She’s got Jamie, and her friends, and she treasures them more than anything.

She hears her name called, forces herself to move, stepping onto the stage in her heels and cap to receive her certificate and a handshake from the President. She poses for the handshake photo, grinning brightly as she holds her certificate up, and thanks him, crossing the stage and moving the tassel of her cap to the other side. The last year is quite literally in her hand now, with the next four shining brightly ahead. She can’t _wait._

Jamie rises to meet her as she gets to her seat, and Dani sees the tears in her eyes, the tremble in her lip as she smiles. They look at each other for a long, perfect moment, and then at the exact same second launch themselves together, Jamie lifting Dani off of the ground and squeezing her tightly as Dani laughs. She knows they must be attracting attention, but she couldn’t care less. None of it matters, not so long as Jamie has her in her arms. Jamie whispers again and again how proud she is, how much she loves her, how she can’t wait to show Dani’s certificate off in their flat into her hair, and Dani feels her own tears starting up, waiting for Jamie to put her down before she grabs the lapels of her girlfriend’s jacket and kisses her, deeply, lovingly, pouring everything she’s ever felt for Jamie into her lips.

Viola, Hannah, and Owen all offer their congratulations once Jamie and Dani eventually separate, and Dani sits among them, hand clasped tightly in Jamie’s, who hasn’t stopped grinning since the ceremony again. Once the formalities are over, they walk down to the Fellows’ Garden, and Dani gets her camera out. She gets three full rolls of film - pictures of the whole group, of her individually with everybody, her with Jamie, her alone with her certificate and cap. She already knows her favourites; her and Viola with their arms around each other, a group one of Owen holding her certificate and pretending it’s his as they all laugh, and three of her and Jamie that are immediately going on the mantlepiece. The first, of Jamie with her arms around Dani’s waist from behind, certificate on display and Jamie’s chin on her shoulder, grinning. The second, of them recreating the hug, Jamie lifting Dani off of the ground as her gown billows in the wind, their smiles visible as they grin at each other, foreheads touching. The third, a shot they hadn’t posed for that Viola’s quick timing managed to capture, of Dani looking down at her certificate with a smile as Jamie has an arm around her waist, holding Dani’s certificate in her right hand as Dani holds it in her left, kissing her cheek. She thinks that one might be her favourite.

A celebratory dinner at _A Batter Place_ had been the final move for the evening, with Viola’s sisters joining them. Isabel the sister had turned out to be Isabel the server, and Dani enjoys her dynamic with Owen, the two of them getting along well. She sits next to Jamie, who has a hand on her thigh, and she feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the people around her. 

She may have lost a mother, but she’s gained a family.

And later, as Jamie drags her into their bedroom, her cap resting proudly on their kitchen counter and makes a seductive comment about _why don’t you just keep the gown on?_ , Dani can’t think of anything except how beautifully, wonderfully, _gloriously_ happy she is that she hopped on that plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as well as the epilogue, you’re getting an emotional end note next time and also a query. i don’t want to lengthen this fic any longer, but i’m not quite ready to leave this world behind entirely - so if anybody has any requests for one-shots of moments here they’d like to see please comment them below. I can’t promise to do them all as my brain is a pain in the ass for what it likes to write, but i’m currently thinking group pub quiz and then possibly apartment hunting? let me know. i won’t be writing any of post-this fic, as i said above, my work is done at the end of dani’s journey, and i’m letting it go, but i’m happy to expand on moments i’ve skipped past or take any prompts for this timeline.
> 
> love to you all. it's been a whirlwind. x


	9. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 refused to list this on the front page so a lot of people didn't see yesterday's update according to my fic statistics, so make sure you've read and commented on chapter eight if you missed it too!
> 
> well. here we are. there’s a VERY long note at the end of this explaining all gratitude and current fic plans. please read it and know, my dear readers, that you’ve all kept me going with your kindest words.

Doctor Dani Clayton stands tall and proud in her lecture theatre.

Books line her desk, a picture of herself and Jamie nestled in the corner. She has six classes, each keeping her busy and motivated in equal measures, and has worked hard to become a highly-respected name in the University faculty. Four years of teaching have done nothing to dampen her spirits - on the contrary, the rows of faces sitting rapt in front of her as the clock ticks towards the end of the day only make her more enthusiastic.

“Any questions, my office hours this week are Wednesday 12-1, and Friday 10-11. Enjoy your day.”

Dani shuffles a couple of papers on her desk as her students file out of the room, chatting. One hangs back, approaching her. “Professor?”

Dani looks up with a smile at the student. Harriet, her name was, a first-year studying English, already one of Dani’s brightest. “What can I help with?”

“I just wondered, would it be okay if I stopped by on Wednesday to discuss my essay title?” Harriet sounds nervous, and Dani makes her smile as reassuring as possible.

“Of course. You know where to find me, I’ll-” Dani looks up to see Jamie leaning in the doorway, and she trails off, unable to contain her widening grin as she winks at her girlfriend. She turns back to Harriet, who has gone a very dark shade of red. “Sorry. As I was saying, I’ll be happy to provide some suggestions if you’re struggling, but come with a few you’re thinking about, and we’ll work from there.”

Harriet nods. “Thanks. And, uh, Professor, you look really nice today.”

“Thank you, Harriet, that’s sweet of you. See you on Wednesday.”

Harriet nods, walking slowly out of the lecture hall as Jamie walks in, greeting Dani with a kiss that she’s fairly certain Harriet deliberately stayed to watch. “Someone’s hot for the teacher,” Jamie murmurs, bringing a hand up to Dani’s waist, who giggles at her, leaning up to brush a few loose brown curls off of Jamie’s face. She has a soft spot for her young queer students, her relationship with Jamie is probably more widely talked about than her class content, and she likes knowing that just by existing she’s become a kind of rolemodel. She can’t imagine how different things could have been if she’d been exposed to a queer teacher, even just in college, to have had that affirming experience that there are people like her who are successful, happy, in love. It would have meant everything.

“She’s sweet. But until she starts planting roses down the road, I’m a little bit spoken for, I’m afraid.”

Jamie’s hand takes hers, fiddling with the ring on her finger, a sign of their union even if not yet recognised by the Church or the state. Five years on and Dani still finds herself staring at that ring, or it’s partner nestled on Jamie’s left hand. She’d always thought that proposing would be the scariest moment of her life, but oh, how happy she was to be wrong. She remembers Jamie’s face with absolute clarity, how she’d turned around with a ring extracted from the roots in confusion, confusion that gave way to overwhelming joy as she realised what was happening. How they’d clung to each other in the kitchen, laughing, kissing, crying, reassuring each other that it wasn’t the legality that mattered; it was the commitment, the promise to choose each other above all else again and again and again. 

They’d been unable to have an official ceremony, but that didn’t stop them getting damn close. Jamie spent all day doing up the Fellows’ Garden to resemble a traditional wedding, threading ribbons in the trees as Dani had sourced a few chairs, a white dress for herself and a deep purple suit for Jamie. Hannah had “officiated” for them - Jamie had asked her, knowing that Dani’s growing reconnection with her faith was important. Owen had catered, and Margaret and Tabitha from the bookstall at the market had attended, along with Viola, Perdita, Isabel, and even the Wingrave children, whom Dani had been tutoring every Friday afternoon for three years at the time. She feels lucky to have seen them grow - Miles begins University in York in September, Flora coming into her own as an incredible student of mathematics. Owen had been Jamie’s best man, Viola Dani’s Maid of Honour - in Dani’s mind, it didn’t matter where they went through the motions. She could have been in the Fellows’ Garden, or the Vatican getting wed by the Pope himself. All that mattered was Jamie, and her, and celebrating the life they had built, and continue to build, together in front of their chosen friends and family.

Jamie brings her out of her daze with a squeeze to her hip. “Wanna get out of here?”

Dani cocks her head, pretending to consider. “Maybe. Got a lot of marking to do. Might have to make it a late one at the office.”

She feels Jamie’s other hand come to rest on her other hip, thumb brushing obscenely close to the waistband of her skirt. “If I say the words ‘bath’, ‘candles’, and ‘massage’, does that improve my odds?”

 _Heaven._ “Now you’re talking,” Dani says, kissing her deeply.

*

She leans back into Jamie some hours later, careful not to let the water spill out of the tub as Jamie’s arms wind around her waist, holding her tightly as Jamie hums a tune into her hair. “I’d like to come to one of your lectures one day. Properly, I mean, not getting there five minutes early when I’m walking you home.”

Dani thinks for a second - it’s her class, Jamie’s a University alumni in her own right, as well as an employee at Clare still. “I don’t see why you can’t. Might be a bit boring, though, me going on about children’s literature for an hour.”

“Nothing you do could ever be boring, Poppins. Plus, if I hate it, I can just perv on you for the whole time.”

Dani rolls her eyes, squeezing Jamie’s hand under the water. “Not in front of the children, Jamie. My reputation would never recover.”

“Oh, they’d _love_ it. The amount of covert smiles I get whenever I show up, or when one of them comes by the Fellows’, honestly. You’d think you were teaching a class on us.”

“You might come up now and again. When you’ve been good.”

“So, never, then,” Jamie deadpans, pressing a kiss to Dani’s hair. She settles further back, leaning her bodyweight on Jamie, enjoying the flicker of the candles and the warmth of the tub and the body behind her. Nine years together, and she never, ever tires of any of it. How could she, when the woman she’s forged her life with is Jamie? Jamie, who greets her with a kiss every morning, who cooks abysmal dinners and laughs her way through the evening at herself, who listens and supports her no matter what. Jamie, who leaves her notes on the mirror even when they’re both at home all day, tears out newspaper articles she knows Dani will enjoy and leaves them on her office desk when Dani’s teaching, complete with a couple of sandwiches and a heart scribbled on a coffee cup. The tenderness Jamie has for her has grown and grown, every day getting impossibly more tangible.

Dani can feel how she’s grown in response, both in loving Jamie and in her job. She’s a fellow of Clare College, teaching classes in English, education, and modern literature five days a week, has Miles and Flora on Friday evenings. Her proudest career achievement is her summer school - for three weeks every August, Clare is hers, twenty five teenagers from foster homes and disadvantaged backgrounds given a space to explore literature with her on full scholarship. She’d named it the Taylor Project, a nod to Jamie’s maiden name, who had held her tightly and teared up when Dani proposed it, overwhelmed with how fiercely her girlfriend wanted to make a difference to kids going through the same situation she did. “I just know what a difference it can make, going home after three weeks of being listened to, encouraged,” Dani had said at the time, during a stressful evening before her project proposal. “Just imagine.”

“I don’t have to,” Jamie had said, truthfully. “Who’d have known where I’d be if I hadn’t met that librarian. I think you’re doing something incredible, Dani. You make me so, so proud to be your wife.”

The Taylor Project had been running for three years now, and Dani had recently received the news that six of the twenty five of her cohort were beginning at Cambridge in September, at Clare, Newnham, Wolfson, Trinity, Peterhouse, and Magdalene respectively. She’s _thrilled,_ every year her pool of applicants getting stronger and stronger. The potential in the teenagers she tutors is magnificent, every wave giving her a new sense of hope for the future generations. She’d remarked as much to Viola, now an adjunct professor at University College London, the last time they’d met. _Makes sense_ , Viola says. _I’ve told you before, you’re a remarkable talent. It doesn’t surprise me for a second that talent nurtures talent._

Dani is thankful for every moment of her life with Jamie. She genuinely doesn’t believe she’d have had half the courage in her academic career without her wife by her side. Jamie is unrelentingly supportive, listens to Dani as she rambles on for hours and hours about all manner of things, makes her tea when she’s got a long week of marking. She does everything in her power to support Jamie’s successes just the same - her wife now runs several gardening clubs both in and out of the University, helping young children on the weekends and her over-sixties group every Thursday lunchtime, and Dani’s heart melts every time she sees any of them in action, sees the love Jamie pours into her plants shared with so many others. Dani comes when she can, sometimes running into her own students there - all of whom are interested and encouraging of their very-blatant relationship. Even their jobs have become an extension of their life together, keeping their individual interests burning separately while finding a way to entwine them at the same time. It’s beautiful, Dani thinks, what they’ve achieved together.

She knows whatever they achieve in future is going to be just as remarkable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, there we go. short, i know, but hopefully sweet. on to the sappiness.
> 
> i’ve had the most wonderful time writing this. both dani and jamie are exceptionally important characters to me, and likely will be for a long time. i find comfort in them, i love exploring them, and this has been such a joy, honestly. taking them both and putting them in a setting i love just as much is wonderful.
> 
> thank you to every single one of you, everyone who has read this, bookmarked it, subscribed, left a kudos, and ESPECIALLY you beautiful souls who have left comments over the last few chapters. i’ve read them again and again and again and probably wont stop doing so. many of you are fic writers yourselves so will know just how much they mean, and i treasure all of them, genuinely.
> 
> i’ve mentioned a couple of times now that i will probably go back to this in the form of one-shots expanding the timeline - currently, the list is a group pub quiz, apartment hunting, and a first theatre trip. i’d really like to write some about dani as a professor with jamie involved, so particularly interested in prompts along that theme - would quite like to explore the taylor project/gardening club too. and additionally, any moments i mentioned in this main fic that i skipped past or that you think would fit. just comment below or message me directly.
> 
> i can’t promise to get to all of them (adhd brain go brrr at all the wrong times) but i really would love to hear what people want, and will do my very best to deliver.
> 
> all my love, my warmest regards, and my absolute honour,  
> heléna xxx


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